Cancion del Dia

In the valley where the moons and lovers play
live two children who were born on Saturday.
One was dark, one was fair, followed by the hawk, mothered by the mare.
Stranger children you will never see, brothers of the forest and the sea,
One was land, one was air, and they kept the fires burning there.
In a golden vessel and silver vase, kept them burning in the strange enchanted place,
Kept them burning to the sky, for they knew someday the sun would die

Honey Bee escribió:



Let's drink to the hard working people
Let's drink of the lowly of birth
Raise your glass to the good and the evil
Let's drink to the salt of the earth

Say a prayer for the common foot soldier
Spare a thought for his back breaking work
Spare a part for his wife and his children
Who burn the fires and who still till the earth

And when I look into the this faceless crowd
A swirling mass of gray blue
Black and white
They don't look real to me
In fact, we all look so strange

Raise your glass to the hard working people
Let's drink to the uncounted heads
Let's think of the wavering millions
Who need leading but get gamblers instead

Spare a thought for the stay-at-home voter
His empty eyes gaze at strange beauty shows
And a parade of the gray suited grafters
A choice of cancer or polio

And when I look into this faceless crowd
A swirling mass of grays and
Black and white
They don't look real to you
Or do we look too strange

Let's drink to the hard working people
Let's think of the lowly of birth
Spare a thought for the rag taggy people
Let's drink to the salt of the earth

Let's drink to the hard working people
Let's drink to the salt of the earth
Let's drink to the three thousand million
Let's think of the humble of birth

Colosal.

La mia



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