Criss-cross the stars,
and call it a night.
If it feels right,
then do it again.
In the green fields,
where the sun shines bright,
we lose track of time,
and play pretend.
When there's no where to go,
and we have no home,
we know She will be there.
When we lose our minds,
and our brothers die,
we know Mother Nature will be there.
Atop the hills,
of tall green grass,
our memories last,
forever, for now.
Time ticks on,
ticking so fast,
making present past,
so long.
When there's no where to go,
and we have no home,
we know She will be there.
When we lose our minds,
and our brothers die,
we know Mother Nature will be there.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio