A mysterious senior passing by Millennium Crossing. The wind is gentle, the flowers fair. The moon is bright, …
A mysterious senior passing by Millennium Crossing.
The wind is gentle, the flowers fair. The moon is bright, the wine beyond compare. Bring some young rivals here to spar, then all things good grow better still, by far.
Drink a thousand rounds without a sway, toast a thousand years without a fade. What a splendid thing it appears.