In the meadow
thick with snow
still the wind will breeze and blow
in the sand
so hot and dry
this is where the river cries
in the forest
living and green
here is where the mocking-jays sing
through the terrain I hear them cry
as I sing Rue her last lullaby
I hear the cannon
thick with snow
still the wind will breeze and blow
in the sand
so hot and dry
this is where the river cries
in the forest
living and green
here is where the mocking-jays sing
through the terrain I hear them cry
as I sing Rue her last lullaby
I hear the cannon
Post a Comment
Be the first to comment on this article!