Avalive
09-28-2006, 01:01 PM
When
When scientists stop to inventing
The Earth turns with all its endeavour
When Shakespeare was tired of penning
The woos from the lovers are yet darling
When bees are zealously mating
The wind carries the seeds to their bedding
And when the rain never comes
Flowers wither and the land is never again lavish
We can move to the moom and the stars
But if your love for me is ceasing
The sun is there to dry up all the rivers
But never the two weeping ponds in my eyes
The hollow spheres of my deepest despair
When scientists stop to inventing
The Earth turns with all its endeavour
When Shakespeare was tired of penning
The woos from the lovers are yet darling
When bees are zealously mating
The wind carries the seeds to their bedding
And when the rain never comes
Flowers wither and the land is never again lavish
We can move to the moom and the stars
But if your love for me is ceasing
The sun is there to dry up all the rivers
But never the two weeping ponds in my eyes
The hollow spheres of my deepest despair