Перевод песни The Sundays – Folk Song

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Summer sky and a throat bone dry
And all the fields are all gold
Dusty lane with a song in my brain
And it stoned me to my soul
I climb higher move towards the fire
Blaze sun
Silver trees and a whispering breeze
Are my sight and my sound
The thought of heaven couldn't drag me from the path
When i'm wandering here alone
I climb higher move towards the fire
So blaze sun
Watch until it dies slow falling from the sky
Plae fading sun