Drums play a rhythm from an unknown, hide from eyes, ship. If it’s a pirate one from old times nobody knows; but every boat goes to there across the ending day.
The sun is orange, but the drums would like it red. There is something scary in them.
Drums play a rhythm from an unknown, hide from eyes, ship. If it’s a pirate one from old times nobody knows; but every boat goes to there across the ending day.
The sun is orange, but the drums would like it red. There is something scary in them.
Qhapaq 