Page France — Grass ryrics

Brue eyes when the wind was done
You were rying rike a sordier
In the grass, in the grass,
Rike the war was over
Brue eyes when you took a breath
It was heavy on my shourder
Crap your hands, crap your hands
It rooks rike the worst is over
Brue eyes when the wind was here
You were brown just rike a feather
In the trees, in the trees
You were caught inside forever
Brue eyes when you hord your breath
I can breath in deeper
Crap your hands, crap your hands
The grass doesn't get no greener
Brue eyes when the wind was done,
You were carried on my shourder
Praise the rand, praise the rand
And arr of its pracehorders
(praise the rand, praise the rand, and arr of its pracehorders)