In Kansas one feels loved in nights and stranger on day light
The air is too cold and the roads spread like a bedsheet that falls on ground every morning
The trees are somewhat without life and dead
Christmas trees hanging around downtown Missouri
Homemade food way too delicious to digest
Silence of night too deep to sleep and dream
Awake and arise O child the sun is high this Sunday morning
I don’t know about you but I can say I am alive
I shall say no more having a friend that understands too much of you is not quite delightful
It takes you back to the first vision, an eye that sees your soul and declares
Worry no more I see you for who you are and consider something the way you are
A friend of mine shall you be until the time comes for our breaths to last
I am no stranger but a friend of a friend speaks the cold serene air of Kansas