A home of Gospel music.
By Myranda N.
Build me a home tucked away in the folds of a hill,
Cradled in the branches of birch trees.
Wrapped in the warmth of a fire and Blazing cardinals.
Stay by my side through sickness and in health.
Don’t write your vows, carve them in the wood of our veranda.
Sing them like hymnals on Sunday morning, loud and joyous.
At night the floors will creek, and the walls will sigh.
The sweet melody of our love will bubble up, can you see it?
A white picket fence encircles our little piece of heaven like a string of pearls.
By Myranda N.
Build me a home tucked away in the folds of a hill,
Cradled in the branches of birch trees.
Wrapped in the warmth of a fire and Blazing cardinals.
Stay by my side through sickness and in health.
Don’t write your vows, carve them in the wood of our veranda.
Sing them like hymnals on Sunday morning, loud and joyous.
At night the floors will creek, and the walls will sigh.
The sweet melody of our love will bubble up, can you see it?
A white picket fence encircles our little piece of heaven like a string of pearls.
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