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 Hin Onde Hin Ondeальтернативная группа

Language Of The Woods

Came the long winter's cold and told it's tale to me

Flew the moonbirds suggesting spells of the gleaming moon

Blew the wind with it's mystifying whispers

Swaying firs compiling secret words

For those with a mind to know



Ancient phares within the treetops

The language of the ages old

Spells never buried, the bard eternal,

The spirit of woodland sings it's wisdom, spreads it's magical might

And luckless lands of north reveal their secret forth

Hin Onde

Language Of The Woods / Hin Onde

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