dimecres, 18 d’abril del 2012

Green trees call to me

Shayla worked in a factory.
She wasn't history.
She's just a number.

One day she gets her final pay
and she goes far away.

Green trees call to me.
I am free but life is so cheap.
Scenery is still outside of me.
All alone, trapped by its beauty.

Shayla turned to run away,
to leave in peace and end her stay.
Years of fear were in her way.
Lost in space and down she came.

Suddenly some subtle entity,
some cosmic energy,
brushed her like shadows.
Down here we stop to wonder.
Cars on the freeway.
Bright lights and thunder.

Shayla, Blondie.