when i was a l i had a favorite story of the who lived where the rivers wind her voice could match the angels' in its but she was blind, the was blind an old came and took her to his palace where the walls were burnished bronze and golden and he fed her fruit and nuts from an ivory and he
"sing for me, my meadowlark, for me of the silver morning, set me free, my meadowlark, and buy you a priceless jewel and cloth of brocade and and love you for life, if you sing for me."
one day as the lark sang by the water the god of the sun heard her in his and her moved him so he came and brought her the of sight he her sight and she opened her eyes to the shimmer and the of this beautiful, god, so proud and strong and he called to the lark in a voice both and tender "come along. fly me, my meadowlark, fly me on the silver morning, the sea where the dolphins bark we will on the coral beaches, make a feast of the plums and just as far as your vision fly me."
but the said no for the old king her so she couldn't bear to wound his so the sun god away and when the king came that day he found his had died every i heard that part i cried ...
and now i here starry-eyed and stormy oh, when i thought my heart was finally numb a beautiful, man appears before me, singing "come, oh, you come?" and what can i do if finally for the first the one i'm burning for returns the if love has at last it's picked the worst time i know got to go
fly away, fly away in the morning, if i stay, i'll grow to curse the so it's off where the days won't me i know i wounds behind me but i won't let find me back way my past once again can blind me fly ... and we wait to say my beautiful man and i.