Read it slowww-lyy, Here I am loneee-lyy, Writing a song for my mother Mom. Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Beautiful days, dull sunrays, The time is fleeting like tides and waves. Far from home, living alone, Writing a song for my mother mom! Read it slow-ley, Here I am lon-ley, Sitting in a park, writing in the dark, Pouring my pain, in search to become happy again She likes to cook, I love to write book She does it for me, I do it for her. Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Over the land, near the bank, She thinks of me and I think of her, We are together bound, But time turned our lives all around with a lamenting sound. Read it slowly; my mother mom is lovely. She sleeps there in the wintry nights And I in the summer cries, Waiting for the day we meet again And I will be happy again.
On wrong side of truth a prophecy burns. A conflict of your own choosing when more was less. Do you need some divine intervention in resolving human questions? The innocence of a sunflower will not blame the moon for dark
John Walker served his country in WWII It was something he felt obligated to do. In combat he risked his life Even while he was facing strife He wrote his family back at home While he was on another roam
Your genome was climbing down. I hate to count the steps. Feathers hurt sometimes after the end of flying. How far was the moment of dust? You were still swimming in saline water. A collective guilt will pay the price.