Fantasia legna sulla fiamma e ci si scalda un po'. Vedrai sopra l'acqua il vento argento sciogliera per te. Sul tuo corpo bianco l'ombra mia sara
as I can running straight to your heart Where the fantasy ends and reality starts Till I stop believing that dreaming is all I can do And the fantasy
My head is in the forest And I'm thinking about you The mist is pulling lightly On the timber My thoughts are of the forest And I'm sure, I'm not in
fantasy Do you know what you do to me? What you do with my fantasy? I like what you do to me, baby, in my fantasy Do you know what you do to me? What
Moonlight on the water Sunlight on my face You and me together We are in our place The Gods are in the heavens Angels treat us well Oracle has spoken
entreating, entrance at my chamber door This is it, and nothing more, deep into the darkness peering Long I stood there, wondering fearing, doubting dreaming fantasies
when I came to taste the spray on the waterfront I lost my fear and shrugged away my shame And I stowed away on a trans-atlantic freighter With the tempest
those who practice it. It is being constantly changed and rewritten To conform to the requirements of the ruling elite. A tempest of convenience that
the right place, right here Can't run to your corner when life don't wanna fight fair Things'll become quite clear When you decide to wake up and stop having fantasies
reeled with grave poetry From grace I fell in love with her scent and feline lure And jade woodland eyes that ushered in the impurest Erotic, laden fantasies
heart reeled with grave poetry From grace I fell in love with her Scent and feline lure and jade Woodland eyes that ushered in the impurest Erotic, laden fantasies
of war! The pilot of a Tempest or a York! To hold my trench against the Panzer Korps, instead of simply being one who talks, and reminisces of his fantasies
Troubled weather's on its way Tempests threaten us today There's no respite from long dark nights Just the fantasy of spring From the hailstones of summer
(music by Jackson Browne, lyrics by Pamela Polland) My head is in the forest And I'm thinking about you The mist is pulling lightly on the timber My
get lost together Right now I'll do whatever [D Woods:] You take me high But I really want to go off (off) Hearts beating fast Temp is still moving (slow) My fantasy
ta robe Enleve tes chaussures Et tout le reste Love is madness Love is a big joke Is it me or just a teen-age fantasy J'suis en manque Depuis quelque temps
oppression, Written by those who practice it. It is being constantly changed and rewritten To conform to the requirements of the ruling elite. A tempest
