shadows cast by the sun on the white ceiling the stillness of the air the pleasant day the radio tells a story with warmest feeling
no way to say that this is not plain dealing the action of our choice the noblest way shadows cast by the sun on the white ceiling
gone back behind the cloud the senses reeling ask the bright moment to forever stay the radio tells a story with warmest feeling
the voices on the telephone they were appealing for someon to resolve the darkest play shadows cast by the sun on the white ceiling
we hear the names we wonder if by stealing off in the quiet we'll see them in array the radio tells a story with warmest feeling
made by our histories the shining surface peeling to show the dead who tumbled once in hay shadows cast by the sun on the white ceiling the radio tells a story with warmest feeling
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