A green meadow under a rising sun.
I try to speak, but run.
A god he must be.
Perhaps he will choose me.
A mud pile under a black mane.
Grotesque but not vain.
I wonder, is she sane?
Chocolate pools under a night sky.
I try to speak, but come up shy.
A goddess she must be.
Perhaps she will choose me.
I try to speak, but run.
A god he must be.
Perhaps he will choose me.
A mud pile under a black mane.
Grotesque but not vain.
I wonder, is she sane?
Chocolate pools under a night sky.
I try to speak, but come up shy.
A goddess she must be.
Perhaps she will choose me.
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