The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own.
|Boa Vista, Cape Verde|
All that you can't leave behind
All that you can't leave behind
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own.
|Boa Vista, Cape Verde|