It was quite beautiful, it was so green and lush
So full of life and yet life had no bite or coldness to it
There was none of the reality of life, none of the loss or the minor wins that come in our hopes and dreams
There was only perfection, fruit ripened on the wine, home of leave or clay ready to be had
Fire never to be tended and others never to be fought
And maybe that is what is mea...