Where am I, son? Can you find me counting in the tree trunk? Where am I, son? Can you see your branching from my branching arm? Where am I, son? Hidden in the wood that you were cut from and supped from
Shaped by the shaper The grain of the paper Where am I, son?
Don't you be foiled by the soil Under there the body loyal Read your poem to my bones But see me somewhere else
Mother that plays gameTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
