Everything changes or dies, they say,
And some things are never returned;
So, that which is given
Can be taken away,
But never the lesson learned.
In another time
And another place…
You and I in love,
Falling out of grace.
Seeing things that we
Aren’t supposed to see…
I used to have a little friend
That only I could see;
He told me he was just pretend,
But he was just like me.
He used to hide up in a tree,
A Troubled Young Man
Lúcio rubbed his eyes and snorted. Snorting was something he did a great deal, but here, the smoke from the campfire was getting to him. And then, there was the other smoke, which the old Indian kept pushing on him.
The calico cat from across the street
Tramps round on the drive, like he wants to meet;
The ole alley dog comes bounding away.
I dreamed a song that echoed in my heart,
About the things we feel when we’re apart…
Apart from those we know and love,