The FoolA Simplitcity
The earth grows the sky,
As its voices do cry,
Life is hope, and love for the fact we die.
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See AllI wonder, I wonder If in the depths of our slumber, We ever dream to cease our ceaseless number. Perhaps our questions are naught but answers, Perhaps answers are naught but questions, Our pride is pr
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I am scratched and itched, and old and young; I am the red greened apples, And love high-strung. There can be no words that pump as the heart does; Flesh and Fire, The forge of God's young.
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I heard it before, Once long ago; Come and get me... The night grew young, And the dew was ripe; Come and get me... A voice not found is one that can always be heard; Come and get me...
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