I asked the Lord one dayWhy this feeling of breakfree in me?
He laughed and said to me,
"Strange is your desire
From what you really need,
Strange is your destiny
From the journey that you've been.
Polished your soul,
With your petty little deeds.
You tried to be faithful,
But I wasn't really pleased.
You dream of clear skies, moon and the stars,
But limit to decorate the insides of your walls.
Lie on green grass in the shade of a tree,
Talk to me or maybe sing with the breeze.
Yours is a perfect environment, but I pity,
You've settled for ease, the comfort of the city.
