Rivers flow silent among the rocks
Way down in the woods green
Birds sing their song, fly around
Unaware of a world boiling hot
Where chaos òut number leaves
Problems arè more than flowers.
Ever weighing the scales of pride
Erring thè steps that must be right
Taking decisions that cannot reverse
No time to waste, blood not to spill
Earth is too beautiful, yet we forget
To enjoy the priceless moments.
Waiting for the Sun to rise
The blue bird tried to remember
An old song it had once hummed.
That would throw the buds open
Then fill them with honey sweet .
The light was no more golden
No trees swayed in the garden
The birds longed, but no more flowers-
bloomed there; Times have changed.
Now evenings end late, very late
Dawn hardly showers any dew
on days new.