There is nowhere like Londinium. The heart of the world beating right there before the warmth of an open big red faggot-popping hot log fire.
It burns cosily in the giant old halls which lie behind those ancient walls in the ice cold snow and winds of winter.
There is nowhere like Londinium. The heart of the world beating right there before the warmth of an open big red faggot-popping hot log fire.
It burns cosily in the giant old halls which lie behind those ancient walls in the ice cold snow and winds of winter.