pushing down upon the play button on my tape deck
french words begin to play
a mixture of emotions swirled
I was told it was a nun
talking to god
if I could talk that romantic to God
maybe he'd listen
dominicca nicca nicca
what if god spoke a different language

warm breeze enters my room
through an open window
I heard the cattle move
and in the kitchen was my mom
and I wanted god to hear me

I felt special...but no one else did
int he country your just another kid in overhauls and boots
brown boots

but in the fileds with no one in sight
I could imagine life in anothe rplace
another time
the fields were my stage
and the cows and birds were my muses

living in a make believe world
in the same ole world
venturing out proved...I should have stayed
in my make believe world

and at night I lay on my bed
window open and coytotes wailing at the moon
and I could not wait to be in the fileds again
when the sun would rise

blue sky...white clouds
tall grass swaying to the wind
and cowing walking so slow but with a wide gait
a dance in the field

I'd close my eyes
and spin around with mya rms open wide
soak int eh sun
and no one saw
but god, the cows and me

a field where a boy can roam
and make his world with no one to say it can't be done

where has those days gone
where's that freedom gone
to express without any concerns

11/07/2004

Posted on 01/17/2005
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