Spare me a dream faery man
Spare me a dream faery woman
Bake me a ginger bread cottage
Weave wishes to bind with the dough
With icing as white as the snow

Cut me a thread faery man
Sew me a seam faery woman
Bind with the blossom in May
Pink as the rose, soft as the lamb
To wind round the bed where I lay

Write me a poem faery man
Faery woman sing me your love
Casting your light, by the waxing of moon
Set words to music and play me a tune
To brighten my heart all the day

So spare me a dream faery man
Spare me a dream faery woman
Bake me a ginger bread cottage
Weave wishes to bind with the dough
With icing as white as the snow

Weekend stuff
Enough is enough
Just want to chill
Don’t need a pill
Music in my head
Lying on my bed
Its inertia
Nothing to do
No worry
No hurry
If you will or won’t
What you do
Or you don’t
Won’t hurt you

A little while, a little while,
The weary task is put away,
And I can sing and I can smile,
Alike, while I have holiday.

Why wilt thou go, my harassed heart,
What thought, what scene invites thee now?
What spot, or near or far,
Has rest for thee, my weary brow?

There is a spot, mid barren hills,
Where winter howls, and driving rain;
But if the dreary tempest chills,
There is a light that warms again.

The house is old, the trees are bare,
Moonless above bends twilight's dome;
But what on earth is half so dear,
So longed for, as the hearth of home?

The mute bird sitting on the stone,
The dank moss dripping from the wall,
The thorn-trees gaunt, the walks o'ergrown,
I love them, how I love them all!

Still, as I mused, the naked room,
The alien firelight died away,
And from the midst of cheerless gloom
I passed to bright unclouded day.

A little and a lone green lane
That opened on a common wide;
A distant, dreamy, dim blue chain
Of mountains circling every side;

A heaven so clear, an earth so calm,
So sweet, so soft, so hushed an air;
And, deepening still the dream-like charm,
Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere.

That was the scene, I knew it well;
I knew the turfy pathway's sweep
That, winding o'er each billowy swell,
Marked out the tracks of wandering sheep.

Even as I stood with raptured eye,
Absorbed in bliss so deep and dear,
My hour of rest had fleeted by,
And back came labour, *******, care.

Dreams, swirl around, like leaves in a breeze.
                        Life, is the ones, we seize.

You are more than
the fear that holds you back.

You are more than
the sorrow that you carry within.

You are more than
the pain that keeps you away
from yourself.

You are more than
the anger that consumes you.

You are more than
you think you are.

It's pretty burdensome,
When you swallow the tears,
Deep into your heart,
As their peace becomes more important than your pain.
But when alone they don't stop.