Peter Hollens - Hands of Gold
текст песни

He rode through the streets of the city
Down from his hill on high
Over wynds and the steps and the cobbles
He rode to a woman's sigh

For she was his secret treasure
She was his shame and bliss
And a chain and a keep are nothing
Compared to a woman's kiss

For hands of gold
Are always cold
But a woman's hands are warm

And there he stood with sword in hand
The last of darry's tem

And red the grass beneath his feet
And red his banners bright
And red the glow of setting sun
That bathed him in its light
"Come on, come on" the great lord called
"My sword is hungry still"

And with a cry of savage rage
They swarmed across the rill
And with a cry of savage rage
They swarmed across the rill

He rode through the streets of the city
Down from his hill on high
Over wynds and the steps and the cobbles
He rode to a woman's sigh

For she was his secret treasure
She was his shame and bliss
And a chain and a keep are nothing
Compared to a woman's kiss

For hands of gold
Are always cold
But a woman's hands are warm.