So there sits a boy under the shade of an old oak tree
He sees the lofty clouds form shapes surreal
And thinks he of the love that haunts his dreams:
Oh Sun, take leave so my Moon may shine her beams.
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 10:19 AM UTC
So there sits a boy under the shade of an old oak tree
He sees the lofty clouds form shapes surreal
And thinks he of the love that haunts his dreams:
Oh Sun, take leave so my Moon may shine her beams.