Postcards From Italy (Demo)

The times we had

Oh when the wind would blow with rain and snow

Were not all bad

We put our feet just where they had, had to go

Never to go, oh

The shattered soul

Following close but nearly twice as slow

In my good times

There were always golden rocks to throw

At those who admit defeat too late

Those were our times, those were our times, woah

And I will love to see that day

That day was mine

When she will marry me outside by the willow tree

And play the songs we made

They made me so

And I would love to see that day

Her day was mine