Old Song

There's a young girl sitting on a rock on a hill,
And she's playing an old folk song,
The melody rises and falls with the breeze,
And she knows that it won't be long.

'Till the wind blows the butterflies out of their cage,
'Till the land returns to the sea,
A story book closes on the ultimate page,
And the birds of the air fly free.

A traveller stops and he stands for a while,
Enraptured as the music flows,
He senses the world slipping into a song,
He can feel the grass as it grows.

And the wind brings the salty air home from the sea,
While the land remains cool and dry,
And at the end of the day it's just you and me,
Underneath a troubled sky.

Down in the valley lies the end of the road,
Where a journey begins and ends,
And the traveller watches the lamps light up,
As the veil of the night descends.

And the wind blows the butterflies out of their cage,
And the land returns to the sea,
A story book closes on the ultimate page,
And the birds of the air fly free.

---

Added to this great band [wl]278795[/wl] Thank you

---