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Tangerine - текст

by N/A

Measuring a summer's day, I only finds it slips away to grey,
The hours, they bring me pain.

*Tangerine, Tangerine, Living reflection from a dream;
I was her love, she was my queen, And now a thousand years between.

Thinking how it used to be, Does she still remember times like these?
To think of us again? And I do.

* Chorus