our sorrows Intercede with him tonight For all of our tomorrows The killers came to mutilate the dead But ran away in terror to search the town instead But Lorca's
Oversettelse: The Pogues. Lorcas Novena.
with a pistol up his arse Mother of all our joys.... The killers came to mutilate the dead But ran away in terror to search the town instead But Lorca's
sorrows Intercede with him tonight For all of our tomorrows The killers came to mutilate the dead But ran away in terror to search the town instead But Lorca's