I walk down the hall where the woods used to stay,
Concrete at my feet, brick walls at every hand.
And over my head, steal grinds so strong
Where I first felt the spell of the wood thrush's song.
Now the wood thrush is vanished, seeking the place,
That's not felt the crush of man's embrace.
Steep woods are gone now, and oh, how I long,
To again feel the spell of the wood thrush's song.
Over my head, just a few years ago,
Proper leaves shivered when the breezes did blow.
Now the deep home of vengeance drowns the soft side
Of the wind and the leaves of the few trees nearby.
Now the wood thrush is vanished, seeking the place
That's not felt the crush of man's embrace.
Steep woods are gone now, and oh, how I long,
To again feel the spell of the wood thrush's song.
Man is the inventor, the builder, the seed
Writer and seeker of truth by the page.
But all of his knowledge can never explain
The deep mystery of the wood thrush refrain.
Now the wood thrush is vanished, seeking the place
That's not felt the crush of man's embrace.
Steep woods are gone now, and oh, how I long,
To again feel the spell of the wood thrush's song.
Steep woods are gone now, and oh, how I long,
To again feel the spell of the wood thrush's song.
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