Whatever I made the final defeat defeat I lost lost lost I lost
I neither my waterfall, my streams, my springs, my springs, my no vegetable nor the river I was not on the hot sky I was not a cold horn It was
I always dandelion I always open my hand I have always needed I always made it with ever I always burn in the forever I always with a needle look Wishing the days of the days Sewing years
-dariush-74644.htm&media=https://iranlyric.com/store/photo/85.jpg&description=Az To (1356) Dariush){kind=small}
