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Literature Text
Paper flowers, subdued hues
I have spent my mornings among these fields
Soft lace and linens I can't refuse,
But only in waking hours it yields
No birdsong here meets my ears,
Only calls of a harsh breed,
Yet those sounds have brought comfort through the years,
I know now what I need,
A simple home, a ranch your own
I could not dream of such a place,
Yet here I've found so much and grown
I eagerly look to see your face
I've settled now in Argent Down in a house not my own
But the one who welcomed me so fondly,
You have made this house my home.
I have spent my mornings among these fields
Soft lace and linens I can't refuse,
But only in waking hours it yields
No birdsong here meets my ears,
Only calls of a harsh breed,
Yet those sounds have brought comfort through the years,
I know now what I need,
A simple home, a ranch your own
I could not dream of such a place,
Yet here I've found so much and grown
I eagerly look to see your face
I've settled now in Argent Down in a house not my own
But the one who welcomed me so fondly,
You have made this house my home.
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