Grief becoming on my fine flowing face. As of course, Let it be taken along all the rest. Soul alight and besieged, Long life remaining, I will wade into the fields Of heather and poppy As a boy, as a youth Hand in hand in hand in hand I will be swung and told the Truth And never will the day leave me When last I kissed your forehead And put to bed The fine light in your eyes And our faces, flowing.
Peaceland
Nujabes, Metaphorical Music