Clapton, Eric - Sweet Wine - Текст песни

by Ginger Baker and Janet Godfrey

Who wants the worry, the hurry of city life.
Money, nothing funny; wasting the best of our life.

Sweet wine, hay making, sunshine day breaking.
We can wait till tomorrow.
Car speed, road calling, bird freed, leaf falling.
We can bide time.

  Second Verse

  First Verse