Notes
The sylvan tongues of nymphs slip nocturnes betwixt the foggy lids of a weary foot-slog tramping aimless thru a copious coppice...say, who are those mushrooms anyway?
The sylvan tongues of nymphs slip nocturnes betwixt the foggy lids of a weary foot-slog tramping aimless thru a copious coppice...say, who are those mushrooms anyway?
Comment on this mix