A different point of view
Head up high in clouds,
Eyes wandering around,
What you see as a single man,
I see as a crowd.
When you're looking at a meadow,
I'm staring at Gaia's pride.
Why do you hear a nightingale sing
When I hear the breathing of spring?
How can you touch the green, green grass
and cannot feel the fairies pass?
Who are you to call trees boring?
Can't you feel their ancient wisdom?
Try to hear and listen
in the kingdom where our fortune lies.
© All Rights Reserved
Eyes wandering around,
What you see as a single man,
I see as a crowd.
When you're looking at a meadow,
I'm staring at Gaia's pride.
Why do you hear a nightingale sing
When I hear the breathing of spring?
How can you touch the green, green grass
and cannot feel the fairies pass?
Who are you to call trees boring?
Can't you feel their ancient wisdom?
Try to hear and listen
in the kingdom where our fortune lies.
© All Rights Reserved