The song of tomorrow. | Reviewer: Philip | 5/2/11

I did not make this man so he would bow down and worship me like a stone that siteth on the desert sand.I gave him hands and legs and a will to fly and a will to sing, Not of me but the world and its splender And the sweet voices that would churn the swirling winds that plough the soils to lay the new seeds of life to a new comming "tomorrow".Sing a thousand songs or ten thousand more and you will know The words that I am.