You and your sister
Taking a picture
Nothing is purer
Nothing is purer
South of the city
Where it gets dirty
She lives with her sisters and her brothers too
Write in your journal
South of the city
The flowers unfettered
And you are so pretty
Where bridges are wooden,
And where horses reside
Where people are purer much purer than I
You are my sister
Tell me a story
But I am not ready,
I think I'm ready
The lakes here are crafted
They are crafted by men,
The center of georgia
The healing begins,
The feeling begins again.