William Elliott Whitmore
William Elliott Whitmore
William Elliott Whitmore
William Elliott Whitmore
William Elliott Whitmore
William Elliott Whitmore
William Elliott Whitmore
William Elliott Whitmore
William Elliott Whitmore
William Elliott Whitmore
Open up the door
And let the sound come in
I can hear the owls
And the dogs again
And they sing
And they shout
When the moon is out
Open up a window
And let the storm come in
I need to feel the water
On my skin
And the crops need help
To grow
And this rain's gonna make it so
I can see the setting sun
And I know my days are done
But let it be said
That I got no regrets
And I made good on what I owe
And let it be known
That this places was not my home
That this place was not my home