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WHITE SAGE

A quiet cool morning

When I whisper your name, lost dreaming

As I speak to my mind

I catch a slant of light…. still wandering

 

Cleanse your soul with white sage

Let It burn, let it burn

 

They say that a sad wind’s blowing

They say that a storm is brewing… that a storm is brewing

Let them talk, my sweet love

Don’t give up on me now.

Have faith in us, Have faith in us Babe.

 

Cleanse your soul with white sage

Let It burn, slowly

 

Is it fair to blame our days past

For what we are today ?

 

© ℗ 2015 Mumbling Thom