HARVEST HOME
Myheart is filled with youAs a field tilled which grewBut couch and weed;You are my cornfield spread,Ripe to be harvestedFor bitter need.You have built barns in my heart,You have become a partOf all I knew:Wherefore I dance and singAnd fear not anythingSharp scythes may do.
Myheart is filled with youAs a field tilled which grewBut couch and weed;You are my cornfield spread,Ripe to be harvestedFor bitter need.You have built barns in my heart,You have become a partOf all I knew:Wherefore I dance and singAnd fear not anythingSharp scythes may do.
Myheart is filled with youAs a field tilled which grewBut couch and weed;You are my cornfield spread,Ripe to be harvestedFor bitter need.
Myheart is filled with you
As a field tilled which grew
But couch and weed;
You are my cornfield spread,
Ripe to be harvested
For bitter need.
You have built barns in my heart,You have become a partOf all I knew:Wherefore I dance and singAnd fear not anythingSharp scythes may do.
You have built barns in my heart,
You have become a part
Of all I knew:
Wherefore I dance and sing
And fear not anything
Sharp scythes may do.