Instrumente
Ensembles
Genres
Compozitori
Artiştilor

Text: 12 Rounds. Where Fools Go.

Singing sprightly, living brightly
God we do it oh, so well
Come and join the party with me
Come and live in pleasant hell

And how high they rise
Where fools go, I don't think so
And how high they rise
Where fools go, I don't think so

And all was dull and dark that night
I lost my wholesome appetite
If only I could get it right
And feel good, this day of the night

And how high they rise
Where fools go, I don't think so
And how high they rise
Where fools go, I don't think so

And how high they rise
Where fools go, I don't think so
And how high they rise
Where fools go, I don't think so

Where fools go, where fools go
Where fools go