"
There you stood on the edge of your feather,
Expecting to fly.
While I laughed, I wondered whether
I could wave goodbye,
Knowin’ that you’d gone.
By the summer it was healing,
We had said goodbye.
All the years we’d spent with feeling
Ended with a cry.
— buffalo springfield - expecting to fly.
This item was posted on Tuesday, January 24th, 2012 with 3 notes
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