Lyrics 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
its
shapes,
Wether
it
gives,
wether
it
takes
That
I
am
you,
you
are
me,
and
Loving
grace
can
set
us
free
From
sprinting
far,
above,
beyond
Being
our
own
strong
magic
wand
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