First the thought and then the act
To think a plant up towards the sun
It can’t be done, it can’t be done
…
Sam and Libby, Lib and Sam
Made a little one of them
A baby’s born a man to die
I don’t know why, I don’t know why
I know,
someday I might be looking around, trying to find some purpose.
Well, purpose can’t be that hard to find, as long as I’ve got the wind, the wind and your love to carry me.
Excuse me, are you lost? Perhaps you would care to visit the site map