There is no such thing as a moral or immoral book; books are well written or badly written.
Oscar Wilde, Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891
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Talking With My Father
I
'm talking with my fatherHe's talking with his son
And I don't need to look any further
For the one I have become
He says listen to that curlew
That's a sound I love to hear
It's a strange reflection that we look through
Oh that finally finds us here
In this place where life's heart thunders
In this place where time holds still
In this place of harmony and wonder
And values not of gold fulfil
I'm walking with my father
Across these gentle Perthshire hills
It's timeless mysteries that we gather
To make the memories that we fill
He says don't fix what is not broken
No need to find what's not been lost
It's a heavy gate we have to open
And endless field we have to cross
In this place where life's heart thunders
In this place where time holds still
In this place of harmony and wonder
And values not of gold fulfil
There will always be the brave one
There'll be the one who turns away
With all too many things left undone
Oh and so much left to say
I'm talking with my father
He's talking with his son
And I don't need to look any further
For the one I have become
In this place where life's heart thunders
In this place where time holds still
In this place of harmony and wonder
And values not of gold fulfil
In this place where life's heart thunders
In this place where time holds still
In this place of harmony and wonder
And values not of gold fulfil