It was fresh, it was new; The soil was moist and dark. The sky was a crisp, sharp blue; And was free with song of lark. The grass grew tall, so high and free; And these towering stalks were happy, as they serenaded with the breeze. Dandelion weeds grew in the sky and their seeds blew with desire, It was then where there was no war, no hurt, no strife, no fire. The birds flew free, liberated as they flew within the sky no one questioned the caressing wind, no one ever asked why. The sand and sea were brothers, the bark and roots were one. All the radiance of the world was indebted to the sun. The poppy was in abundance, growing in the fields, There was no limit to which happiness that yields.