The purest of songs are not composed
But are discovered.
Lying dormant since time began,
They wait patiently to be unearthed.
It is not for us to dictate their direction
For they are born of themselves —
We are merely the privileged Discoverers.
The purest of songs are not composed
But are discovered.
Lying dormant since time began,
They wait patiently to be unearthed.
It is not for us to dictate their direction
For they are born of themselves —
We are merely the privileged Discoverers.