when i was a l i had a favorite story of the meadowlark who lived where the wind her voice could match the angels' in its but she was blind, the lark was an old came and took her to his palace the walls were burnished bronze and golden braid and he fed her and nuts 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 of brocade and crewel and love you for life, if you will for me."
then one day as the lark by the water the god of the sun her in his flight and her moved him so he came and her the gift of sight he her sight and she opened her to the shimmer and the splendor of beautiful, young god, so proud and strong and he called to the lark in a both rough and tender "come along. fly me, my meadowlark, fly with me on the morning, the sea where the dolphins bark we dance on the coral beaches, a feast of the plums and peaches just as far as your reaches fly me."
but the said no for the old king her so she couldn't to wound his pride so the sun god away and when the king came that day he his meadowlark had died every time i heard that part i ...
and now i stand here and stormy oh, just when i thought my heart was finally a beautiful, man appears before me, "come, oh, won't you come?" and what can i do if finally for the time the one i'm burning for returns the if love has come at last picked the worst time still i got to go
fly away, fly away in the morning, if i stay, i'll to curse the dark so it's off where the won't bind me i know i wounds behind me but i won't let tomorrow me this way before my once again can blind me fly ... and we won't to say my beautiful man and i.