Woven Hand
Swedish Purse
Falling from her braided hairNew morning on the stereoClose together on the pageWe live it downShe has made place for meAnd life for those our childrenSewn into her swedish purseI think upon these thingsChosen by candlelightAs great trees have fallenQuietly and to herselfThis is my languageAgain I am away at seaLooked upon with sharp eyesFather how far am IIt seems forever as the crow fliesAgain I am away at seaTossed about under a mean skyLord how far am IHow far am I
From Letras Mania