Only With Our Own!

Music is the food, music is a meal Sound is the seed, Sound is the flower The guitar has a rift The singer has the words The keyboard has the chords The drummer keeps it all together

We are angels, beauty of art A masterpiece, original and glorious A symbol of time, the piece of the puzzle The song of creation, the canvas for painting Free from control, our own person

They were near them he realized. He could feel it...

I sit there that night, that night i lost my life.

I can still live In this still life With this still love… But you still leave.

The road was dirt, dust and grass, scattering beneath our feet. Cows grazed unaware where we walked, Involved like children with cherished toys.