Manchester

Plains and painted trees, the long south willow street A raging river turning. Feelings never change, the names remain the same, and children go on learning. Like all the town she fights, she prays she'll do it right. With nature's sounds to guide he

raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens brown paper packages tied up with strings these are a few of my favorite things girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes snowflakes that stay on my nose and

i wrote me a book i hid the last page i didn't even look i think i locked it in a cage wrote a novel cause everybody likes to read a novel... it started with a word, and it started pretty well about a rare and fragile bird that I couldn't even spell

Slip inside the eye of your mind Don't you know you might find A better place to play You said that you'd never been But all the things that you've seen Will slowly fade away So I'll start the revolution from my bed Cos you said the brains I had went