I don't want to have regrets on the day I die,
But the regrets are just rising...

Creeping through the forests,
making not a sound...

The rolling hills of America,
are being replaced by concrete...

Read the volumes of fairy tales,
of stories upon your shelf...

Stop being a dreamer,
for your dreams will not come true...

She can not be rescued,
she has fallen to the crowd...

I'm the girl behind the camera,
looking through the lens...

"What is wrong my young child?" asked...
"I need some help please" replied the...

The Native American uses Gods’ gifts,
He is grateful and never greedy...

The notebook full of drawings,
The notebook full of pain...

I walk into Brick Memorial,
with a frown upon my face...

I once knew a preacher,
who preached a great deal...