The Leading Bird - Marketa Irglova
Clouds descend on grass grown wild
Tall and grand lush in hand
They bend in air as man in prayer
I'm weaving through trying to get to you
I'm running past birds of dawn
They sing like heaven they're leading on
Yet I don't see slow motioned wings
Like gold in sun how it could be won
White as snow silk feathered doves
Eternal glow they easily know
That life is grand in all it's shapes
Whether it gives whether it takes
That I am you you are me
Loving grace can set us free
From sprinting far above beyond
Being our own strong magic wand
Wuu wuu wuu wuu
I'm pushing through though knowing this
Thinking it all falls behind the next abyss
I'll get there soon and we'll there some
Til it's time for the next cloud to come
