The meadow’s grains flow in the breeze
While birds fly up above.
The leaves are turning in the trees
And lovers are making love.
The wild asparagus has gone away,
The corn is turning brown.
But this is where I’m going to stay
Because I’m feeling down.
If someone would come with me,
If someone would really care.
I’d take them up and we would see
That chestnut thoroughbred mare.
And we would pick some long tall grass
And throw it at each other.
And we would watch the summer pass
Being friends with one another.
My dearest friend I will not lie,
I love you very much.
But like the elusive butterfly
You are much to nice to touch.
Copyright, Doug Stuber, 1974. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.