Fountain
MissieMac
114
3:20
Nov 30, 2011
1
The wind it carries an echo, through the valleys. The hills are stubborn and will not listen, but where the sun shall fall, a new life will grow, we are the crumbling soil.
The wind it carries an echo, through the valleys. The hills are stubborn and will not listen, but where the sun shall fall, a new life will grow, we are the crumbling soil.
