Half-Handed Cloud A picnic few want to attend Lyrics

Skies pour forth speech always
Your voice in the airways
Awake those asleep, Lord whose
Only reward is this life here

May those seeking not be
Put to shame because me
Don't let those out looking
For you find a dead end instead

Light the way with fires
A seeking heart inquires
To the way you've hand-picked
Find you perfect
Set the picnic

Dine or just stand far off
Counting places on the tablecloth
You look like we've all sketched
Think it's farfetched
Your arms outstretched

Avoids kisses and hugs
Like a snake with earplugs
That ignores the charmer's tune and
Stays immune to loving you

See also:

95
95.12
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