Men’s Spring Summer 20

I own [?]
Beneath [?]
Controlled it, [?] mortal cries
And you could always [?]
And kiss me [?]
Wishing [?]
Future your king, nothing is friends, exist (?)
Yet, in this [?]
Apply nothing [?]
And then, we stage [?]
Light blanc, and pray [?]
From [?] huts to [?]
[?]
For that sweet cloth [?]
[?] schemes

[Instrumental]

[?]

[Instrumental]