Row, row, row my boat,
Every plow I take,
Gently, gently, gently, gently,
freedom takes me away.
Row, row, row my boat,
Every plow I take,
Gently, gently, gently, gently,
Away from my old way.
Row, row, row my boat,
Every plow I take,
Gently, gently, gently, gently
Life is not a dream.
Row, row, row my boat,
Every plow I take,
Gently, gently, gently, gently
Land me off the stream.
YOU ARE READING
The Lakes (Where All The Poetries Went To Die)
PoetryThe lakes are my domains... Where all the words are made... And most of them are unsaid thoughts... Ride a boat and explore... Listen to what my heart aches... This is my domain... The lakes.
