Ahead of me I see rows of clouds the letter C
And all around, on the ground, a sea of fields of grains and greens
I’m soaring by, an open road, fueled by friends and lovers and mothers and brothers
That cover me like an heirloom blanket until I’m homeward bound
Okay, wear your OK home on your heal, and your heart in my hand
Because home is where your heart is and
Now their home is where your art is
So, Mr. Blue Bird sits perched on my shoulder
It’s true, it’s factual
This dance of living is extremely satisfactual
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