The trees blow grow their own leaves.
Spreading their seeds to the prarie.
As will a woman who's lost in her world.
You know what she came for and know what she could.
The ocean has no (???)
It rolls itself to the shore.
As will a man if he tries though he can't.
Make a good life with his head in his hands.
Never a forced smile from the sun in the sky.
Never the same cloud as it passes by.
As the air takes shape as so should I.
The weary are weary for they always ask, "Why?"
The rainstorm creates it's own darkness.
Then washes away all the Devil's own luck.
As will a woman who's living in pain.
Be freed of the heartache she once did contain.
A blue-bird never sings too blue.
Soaring peacefully through wide open skys.
As will a man who's lost his true love.
Be freed of the sorrow he suffers thereof.
Never a forced smile from the sun in the sky.
Never the same cloud as it passes by.
As the air takes shape as so should I.
The weary are weary for they always ask, "Why?"