lost dreams
I sit here in this noisey room, and dream of what could be,
Of what the world is like out there, and what I'd like
to see.
Of mountain lakes high above the flat and fruitless plains,
Of riding across the country on a fast moving train.
You see there's a world out there, calling out to me,
Telling me to live my life, live it wild and free.
To rope and tame the wildest bull, and ride it till it's
dead,
To fly away to Ierland, and drink a frothy head.
But in this life that I have lived, so reserved and quietly,
I don't see myself doing that, It just really isn't
me.
|
