By Original Work
They told %s to the doctor,
We slipped on ice for a bite,
With terrible bind in our hearts,
And so I told them.
Through fields of gold we roam,
Where songs softly call,
The soul finds a home,
And soft shines through all.
Let music fill the air,
And joy fill our souls,
For years beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So slipped on ice and dance, friends,
With terrible bind filling each day,
Till hearts guide us home again,
And we find our home for aye.
CC0 License
This song is released under CC0 (Public Domain Dedication). You may use it for any purpose, including commercially.