On a big, wide ocean stands a small, small island.
On the small, small island live a hundred people.
And the hundred people walk a tall, tall mountain.
On the tall, tall mountain stands a thick, beech forest.
On the thick, beech forest hang long wisps of moss.
Near the wisps of moss sits a gazelle-faced wallaby.
On the gazelle-faced wallaby is thick black hair.
And nobody else knows it is there.
Nobody in Tokyo with their stereos.
Nobody in Germany with their credit crunchers.
Nobody in London with their views of the Thames.
Nobody in Sydney sitting on the beach.
But you know it's there.
You made it.
No comments:
Post a Comment