The Wind
I hear you
through the leaves you dance.
Softly you blew
past me, with a prance.
Merrily you twirl
around the old oak tree
and I hear your skirl,
beckoning me.
There is something about you,
so free.
And I wish, true,
that it was me...
through the leaves you dance.
Softly you blew
past me, with a prance.
Merrily you twirl
around the old oak tree
and I hear your skirl,
beckoning me.
There is something about you,
so free.
And I wish, true,
that it was me...