...started out by putting the winter gloves in a bin, and it was all downhill from there. *grin*
I believe... that it's music when you breathe.
But with help of word or melody, your speech or song
is heavenly, and I
sweet summer singer, come along,
and walk along roads that we've already walked upon
sweet sparrow, sing your song,
you know that I've waited
all year, for you."
Sparrow, by Scatteredtrees