The trees whisper it.
The grass sings it.
The insects harmonize it in chirps of sweet notes.
The morning dew shines it into the anxious skies.
The air is still.
Something is coming.
Available in The Other Side of the Story.
The grass sings it.
The insects harmonize it in chirps of sweet notes.
The morning dew shines it into the anxious skies.
The air is still.
Something is coming.
Available in The Other Side of the Story.