path And stepped inside the forest Still hearing the whisper: "Come closer to me..." But suddenly the beautiful trees And days light turned Into a landscape of thorn and fog
mind in fog, spinning about walking alone, through a forest of doubt searching for reason, proud and frail running in circles but can't find the trail
Deep in selcusion Away from the light Amidst the beasts Of this forest of darkness Forgotten slumber Enthroned in stone Remembered not Lost in time
the sky, as the forsaked throne embrace it`s soul. With blood on their hands, and high-raised swords, the ancient gods command. Fading the forest the
they mer during the day they decided to set camp so that they coud get som rest. But the presence of evil floated like fog in the forest, and they were
-scented fog Desert bloom, evergreen Misty rose, fresh lemon Regular and unscented Potpourri, wild oak, petunia Ocean mist, musk, hazel wood Irish nights, sandal wood, rain forest
A species of the steppes and city I am neither of one kind Dissolving in the slendour of this desolation The forest has been filled by a fog Exactly
, back in the days with galoshes and slush Don't rush me, don't touch me dawg Stay spiritual, I'm blessed, get up up out that fog Don't rush me, don't
Where the wind blows over the mountaintops into the ancient sky And the flowers whither in the shadows of an autumn night Misty fog arises from the valleys
words and music by Woody Guthrie Chorus: This land is your land, this land is my land From California, to the New York Island From the redwood forest
Black fire burns the horizon Ravens fly high in the sky A breeze lifts the fog from the ice The winter predicts our fall The last tide of honor now rises
A wicked decision We can agree A wicked decision Nothing's wrong with you and me A week in the forest A week in the fog You'll be sad to hear that I-
Within the misty late year's forest In times when slouds and trees stand empty Nine thousand wolves are gathered in the snow To raise a long and greyish
voice was calling This land was made for you and me This land is your land This land is my land From California To the New York island From the Redwood Forest
Deep in the misty forest In nights when wind stops blowing And when the moon hides its face Spit out of evil darkness Hell's infants, night's black agents
, Upon the quiet mountain top, Steals drowsily and musically Into the universal valley. The rosemary nods upon the grave; The lily lolls upon the wave; Wrapping the fog
the forests and lakes From the hills standing sullen in silence Which do know no human pain Canst thou see sombre fog Tricleth in thy slumberic reign Fog
master Nocturnal prayers... In the forest A secret buried in this land Beyond this ways... Beyond the dark Frozen embrace of the winter wind Fog...