Moccasins
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Dry
burning moccasins
do I feel beneath my feet,
with a wind of rushing sand and eyes that cannot see.
Sunbeams stand tall beside me like bright organ pipes of
gold, only to play upon its music sheet of sandy sea.
Dry burning moccasins do I leave behind,
with notes of dry winds and sunbeam's
play across the desert floor... '
Til I am no more.
with a wind of rushing sand and eyes that cannot see.
Sunbeams stand tall beside me like bright organ pipes of
gold, only to play upon its music sheet of sandy sea.
Dry burning moccasins do I leave behind,
with notes of dry winds and sunbeam's
play across the desert floor... '
Til I am no more.
