#forhandsofgold

He rode through the streets of the city Down from his hill on high O'er the wynds and the steps and the cobble He rode to a woman's sigh For she was his secret treasure She was his shame and his 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 For hands of gold are always cold But a woman's hands are ...