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
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