To the top of the house;
The air's a Maple scent.
A girl passes,
White dress
Clinging,
And already pink form her skin;
And I want to be with her
At the top of the house,
Alone with the clouds and the wind.
The air's a Maple scent.
A girl passes,
White dress
Clinging,
And already pink form her skin;
And I want to be with her
At the top of the house,
Alone with the clouds and the wind.