we are dreaming of meadows
where mist clings to the feet
by the river
the knee high grass
the nettles, and the dockleaves
cuckoos unravel spring
midges mist the air
we practice with catapults, old wooden bows
until they fill it with sheep
Keep It Regular
we are dreaming of meadows
where mist clings to the feet
by the river
the knee high grass
the nettles, and the dockleaves
cuckoos unravel spring
midges mist the air
we practice with catapults, old wooden bows
until they fill it with sheep