Oh Woe, Oh Woe, the Sky She Knows

Oh woe, oh woe, the sky she knows, the folly of our ways. That grounded hearts can never soar, The birds they see the sky no more. The human mind has none in store, The clouds and grass, they merged. Oh woe, oh woe, oh tragedy, the grass she knows our follies. The smallest ant, the lowest worm, the very dirt still yearns to see the sky; none exists for the human mind. Oh tell me why. Oh woe, Oh woe, oh heart of snow, Where every heart's so cold, so cold and every tear is frozen so, oh tell me why, oh woe. Oh woe, oh woe, the starry night, whose celestial hope is still as bright, will call to us to hear it's sign and join our hands and say goodbye. Why is there not a grain of love, to share our hopes with clouds above? To sing our gracious melody and part our hateful rhapsodies? Oh woe, oh woe, the earth she sows her tears into the clouds. That every skinned and furry paw, could forget their flaws and be alive, eternal children of the flowing sky and tenants of the lands of love; ...we never saw.