Walking through the woods,
I spot a man,
He says he has no home,
no where to go,
no place to call his bed.
Walking through the woods,
I spot a man,
He asks what I think of myself,
of the world,
of the life that I've led.
Walking through the woods,
I spot a man,
he says that this is the way,
this is the path home,
the place to lay my head.
Jan 12, 2011
Jan 12, 2011 at 2:53 PM UTC
Walking through the woods,
I spot a man,
He says he has no home,
no where to go,
no place to call his bed.
Walking through the woods,
I spot a man,
He asks what I think of myself,
of the world,
of the life that I've led.
Walking through the woods,
I spot a man,
he says that this is the way,
this is the path home,
the place to lay my head.
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