Future Of Forestry

Fireflies

Future Of Forestry


Freedom was a homely chevy old and gray
It was slow and steady
We were young
And troubles drifted far
They burned into the sun

Just like we were young, the best was saved for now
And sparks that flew like fireflies
They still light the path somehow
They still light the paths somehow

Summer was a desert sunset's crimson fade
It was dry and heavy
Beauty was the smell of distant rain, our spirits lifted high

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