Владимир Наклевкин

The Rolling Stones. Angie, Angie, where will those clouds all disappear? Angie, Angie, where will it lead us from here? With no loving in our souls and no money in our coats. You can't say we're satisfied. Angie, Angie, you're beautiful. But ain't it time we said goodbye? Angie, Angie, all the dreams we held so close. Seemed to all go up in smoke.