Billie Goat

Billie Goat

I have sinned
The say’in goes
Sinners can’t be saints
So I’ll dance the night away
A country fate
Blue grass billies
Dance on the hill
It’s never just the wind
A fragrance of violins
Blankets a field of Patagonian land lovers
That sit in unison to the vibe of kinship
Steel mugs filled until the process of froth
Brewed on the mountain tops named Sierra
That pale in contrast
To the magnificence of folk music
Delivered in the luxury of a warm breeze
© 2016 Jfreshly Modern Linguistics all rights reserved.

 

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