In a valley where the shadows play,
Where the ancient wind whispers dreams away,
I wandered far where the river flows,
Through tales of time that the earth still knows.
Sacred flowers bloom by the muddy shore,
Each petal tells a story of the ones before,
With a wooden soul and a folk heart's tune,
I sing my mornings 'neath the silvered moon.
Listen close to the secrets in the breeze,
Carried softly through the towering trees,
Voices echo from the mountains high,
In the rustle of leaves, the songs never die.
Let the river cradle each heartfelt sigh,
As we dance with shadows, under the vast sky,
We weave our dreams into the fabric of night,
With the warmth of love, making darkness bright.
So bring your laughter, let the music swell,
In this sacred place where the stories dwell,
From the wooden soul, hear the echoes call,
In the heart of the valley, love conquers all.
As dawn awakens, in a golden embrace,
We'll hold these moments, let time leave no trace,
For life is but a tapestry, woven with care,
In the morning songs, our spirits lay bare.
So gather your dreams and let them take flight,
With the ancient wind guiding us into the light,
And as we walk on through this endless scroll,
We'll find our stories in the wooden soul.
Folk
Wooden soul, Folk heart, River tales, Ancient wind, Valley dreams, Sacred flowers, Morning songs
Folk
Wooden soul, Folk heart, River tales, Ancient wind, Valley dreams, Sacred flowers, Morning songs