Wishing for something to wake my soul And excite my senses Beautiful pictures fill up my brain and explode Squirrels run tiptoe atop these old White picket fences Amid the croaking of self-satisfied toads
Ride pony ride
The world is a canvas your mind is a painter imagination will colour the spaces between whatever it needs to be it's up to you, you see show off your masterpiece in places unseen
Fishermen fish on long lonely piers In burning sunlight Angling for something that they know they'll never catch Poor dog lies on the path close to tears His eyes shine so bright No one is there to come undo the big latch
Ride pony ride
Mossy old trees with Arms and with faces Vines growing up from The palms of my hands And seagulls in wind gusts fly And glorious days go by The world turns fast enough to change all my plans
Time to go home, and sit by a fire Leaving all the worries of tomorrow behind Tuck her to sleep by the rusty fence wire I smile and hope that tomorrow won't mind