when i was a girl l i had a story of the meadowlark who lived where the wind her voice could match the angels' in its but she was blind, the lark was an old king came and her to his palace where the were burnished bronze and golden braid and he fed her and nuts from an ivory chalice and he
"sing for me, my meadowlark, for me of the silver morning, set me free, my meadowlark, and i'll buy you a priceless and of brocade and crewel and love you for life, if you will for me."
then one day as the lark by the water the god of the sun her in his flight and her moved him so he came and brought her the of sight he her sight and she opened her to the shimmer and the splendor of beautiful, young god, so proud and strong and he called to the lark in a voice both and tender "come along. fly me, my meadowlark, fly with me on the morning, past the sea where the dolphins we will on the coral beaches, make a feast of the plums and just as far as vision reaches fly me."
but the meadowlark no for the old king her so she bear to wound his pride so the sun god flew and the king came down that day he found his had died every time i heard that i cried ...
and now i stand here starry-eyed and oh, just i thought my heart was finally numb a beautiful, young man before me, singing "come, oh, you come?" and can i do if finally for the first time the one i'm for returns the glow? if has come at last it's picked the worst time i know got to go
fly away, fly away in the morning, if i stay, i'll grow to curse the so off where the days won't bind me i know i wounds behind me but i let tomorrow find me this way before my past once can blind me fly ... and we wait to say my young man and i.