when i was a l i had a favorite story of the meadowlark who lived where the wind her could match the angels' in its glory but she was blind, the was blind an old king came and her to his palace where the walls were burnished bronze and golden and he fed her fruit and from an ivory chalice and he
"sing for me, my meadowlark, sing for me of the morning, set me free, my meadowlark, and i'll buy you a jewel and cloth of and crewel and love you for life, if you will for me."
then one day as the lark sang by the the god of the sun her in his flight and her singing him so he came and brought her the of sight he gave her and she opened her to the shimmer and the splendor of this beautiful, young god, so and strong and he to the lark in a voice both rough and tender "come along. fly me, my meadowlark, fly me on the silver morning, the sea where the dolphins bark we dance on the coral beaches, a feast of the plums and peaches just as far as vision reaches fly me."
but the meadowlark no for the old king her so she couldn't bear to his pride so the sun god away and when the came down that day he found his meadowlark had every time i heard part i cried ...
and now i stand here starry-eyed and oh, when i thought my heart was finally numb a beautiful, young man appears me, "come, oh, won't you come?" and what can i do if finally for the first the one i'm burning for returns the if love has come at last it's picked the time i know got to go
fly away, fly in the silver morning, if i stay, i'll to curse the dark so it's off the days won't bind me i know i leave behind me but i won't let find me back way my past once again can blind me fly ... and we won't to say my beautiful man and i.