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Текст песни Peter Koppes - Finest Hour

Peter Koppes - Finest Hour слова песни




The scent of night on your fingertipsTouch of velvet on your rose petal lipsScream of lives my senses afrayThe music spoke what our words could not sayDon`t break, in the finest hourDon`t break, in the finest hourA Darklit drive on the plains of awrySmooth and fruit from a sane god`s eyeSecret longing passion, passing as we batheIn the rule of silent wanderlust hazeDon`t break, in the finest hourDon`t break, in the finest hourDen of midnight, blood on the wireWe watch as sadness, fuels the moral pyreThe sea of gloom, wades out of the roomDining on hope, we both licked the spoonDon`t break, in the finest hourDon`t break, in the finest hour

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