L
Letmeout
Guest
Sunday
Sunday,
and bells rang.
Sunday,
and people sang.
Sunday,
and I ran
through the knee-high fields,
and swam
in the cold,
gold river,
and swang
from the warm branches
of the willows.
Sun on my legs.
Sun on my back.
Sun on my face.
sun day.
Sunday,
and bells rang.
Sunday,
and people sang.
Sunday,
and I ran
through the knee-high fields,
and swam
in the cold,
gold river,
and swang
from the warm branches
of the willows.
Sun on my legs.
Sun on my back.
Sun on my face.
sun day.