Addicted To Soul 
It seems to repeat itself but it is always the same: Compos to draw the hair on his arms ... Arrangements sewn with gold ... Stunning voice ... Outstanding musicians ... Vocals heartbreaking ... First Class Brass ... brilliant ... a killing, I tell you! And presto! Another! No respite ... S heart stops ... It falls to his knees ... It borders on the appearance, illumination ... Anyway! We pass and the best! Again, we must go to the obvious. In the sixties, soul is a veritable bottomless pit of love for grandiose music, dance or cry ... Confirmation now with what follows.
It seems to repeat itself but it is always the same: Compos to draw the hair on his arms ... Arrangements sewn with gold ... Stunning voice ... Outstanding musicians ... Vocals heartbreaking ... First Class Brass ... brilliant ... a killing, I tell you! And presto! Another! No respite ... S heart stops ... It falls to his knees ... It borders on the appearance, illumination ... Anyway! We pass and the best! Again, we must go to the obvious. In the sixties, soul is a veritable bottomless pit of love for grandiose music, dance or cry ... Confirmation now with what follows. 
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