Call the truces, in the age of our time
Vengeance is spared for the makers of the rhyme
Oh if the lights are dim, you can't carry your own
There's nowhere to go, when the fairies all leave home. . .
There will be no return.
Call the truces, in the age of our time
Vengeance is spared for the makers of the rhyme
Oh if the lights are dim, you can't carry your own
There's nowhere to go, when the fairies all leave home. . .
There will be no return.
