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Moody Blues, Departure.
Be it sight, sound, the smell, the touch
There's something
Inside that we need so much
The sight of a touch, or the scent of a sound
Or the strength of an oak with roots deep in the ground
The wonder of flowers, to be covered, and then to burst up
Thru tarmac, to the sun again
Or to fly to the sun without burning a wing
To lie in the meadow and hear the grass sing
To have all these things in our memories hoard
And to use them
To help us
To find...
God…