Annie

Bearing with the lions in a comfort weather

sparingly my yes

devoted to withering lines

I'm undrneath the wuthering heights

can you describe to me this feeling

What more could I ask for?

My kitchen is a cold cellar

beneath the garden of a fair lady

peace is everything but my love

I sync slowly but I have

been sinking without knowing it

for fourteen hundred and forty hours

Bearing with lions in a comfort weather