The Sundays ☆ Folk Song

folk song
summer sky and a throat bone dry
and the fields are all gold
dusty lane with a song in my brain
and it stoned me to my soul

I climb higher move towards the fire…..blaze sun

silver trees and a whispering breeze
are my sight and my sound
the thought of heaven couldn뭪 drag me from the path
when I뭢 wandering here alone

I climb higher move towards the fire…. so blaze sun
watch until it dies slow falling from the sky
pale fading sun

The Sundays Folk Song, Harriet Wheeler

The Sundays Folk Song

Folk Song - The Sundays

PS22 Chorus "FOLK SONG" The Sundays