occasionally a cloud drifts over
and blocks burning sun
(He holds us rapt
this kid from down under)
this kid from down under)
and a cooling breeze whispers
through the trees
(with flying fingers
and steady voice)
and steady voice)
so that we forget the searing monotony of the day
(all alone on this stage
in the middle of the prairie
who dreams modest dreams
just wants to play everywhere)
and just bask in the spectacle
of a dream coming true
No comments:
Post a Comment