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Saturday, May 19, 2012

Feck the Fields...

Feck the Fields...

The grass is always greener in Athenry
Where the dreams of blessed souls, rest and fly
The gentle breeze of time is next to nigh
And happiness is strengthened by the sigh.

The grass is always greener over there
When lost in the hazel swirls of a stare
Or floating on the clouds without a care
The wind undoing the tangles of my hair

There is nowhere as pure as here
The air is bright and light and always clear
There are no shadows to ever darken fear
And here there is the soul I dream so dear

Warrior Princess

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