SOIL OF THE ANGER. Phil and June Colander. Cloud-cuckoo-land.

Goes that whole day close one to high essays.
In which falcons establish their nests.
Silver silver winged fly it.
They know the call of the liberty in their chests.
Sawingblack head against the sky.
Where rock rotates, runs it down to the sea.

Choir.

Life on your western bank.
Sawing summer sunsets, asked for more.
I was available your Atlantic sea.
And a song for Ireland sang.

Drinks whole daily.
In old publications, in which fiddlers love to play.
Note of the saw one the elbow.
It played a tape reel, which seemed so great and homosexual.
Confessed on Dingle beach and form.
In the wild foam rubber we found Atlantic bass.

Choir. Life on your western bank.
Sawing summer sunsets, asked for more.
I was available your Atlantic sea.
And a song for Ireland sang.

Maintenance whole daily.
With applicable friends, who try, to form you for stay?
Explain from of jokes and of off messages.
Singing song to lead to the time away.
The Galway salmon run watched out.
Like silver dancing shooting in the sun.

Choir.

Life on your western bank.
Sawing summer sunsets, asked for more.
I was available your Atlantic sea.
And a song for Ireland sang.

Dreams at the night.
I a country in skeins had to fight saw.
Wake up in your dawn.
I saw you to cry in the morning the light.
Sleeps, where the falcons fly.
They rotate and turn all in your air-blue sky.

Choir.

Life on your western bank.
Sawing summer sunsets, asked for more.
I was available your Atlantic sea.
And a song for Ireland sang.