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Beautiful woman, 30 years old, dark blonde curls blowing in the wind, rocks in the background. Beautiful, mysterious. cold whetaher, a strong wind blows her hair, an atmosphere of slight terror
She came to me one morning, one lonely Sunday morning
Her long hair flowing in the mid-winter wind
I know not how she found me, for in darkness I was walking
And destruction lay around me, from a fight I could not win
Uraih Heep