I see the world through a stained glass
Watching and wondering things come to pass
Sitting alone in a darkened room
Listening to the soft clicking of a loom
Pondering and pondering, how could it be?
Could these people really be looking for me?
A knock at the door, a rush of some feet,
Crisp autumn air let in, just a beat.
A pounding of marching a rush of the wind
Touches my wick the candle is out i can't see at all.
Loud rough voices sound in my hall
A stiffened body, and then a loud call.
They have not found me, they're marching away
A fugitive from them i must not obey
In the dark of the night, I steal away
They won't, they can't , find me I pray.
I push through a river, The bright moon I see,
I step on the bank,
Finally Free. |
