WAR AND PEACE ©
War and Peace, volume number one,
The love of a family on the run,
How I long, to belong to that place.
The dream of a frosty morning,
Mist on the frame,
The condensation on the window pane.
The sound of the laughter,
Ringing in the hall, yes I love you,
I love you all.
How I long, to belong to that place,
I am here, you are there,
We are everywhere.
In St Petersburg the ladies,
Are out on parade,
Like some kind of taffeta army,
Of silk and brocade.
And I can still hear the carriages,
I hear the gravel on the drive,
And they’re taking my family,
For a long long ride.