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Search results for 'wading bird'
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birds. Flamingos are a type of wading bird that is native to tropical and subtropical regions around the world. They are known for their distinctive
The wading bird is circling around Each night to check on us What's new - what we found Sound like a frog Sometimes like a bat It can be hard
when she's doing her thing Biggest fish in her pond, hanging down on her neck When the wading birds fly, i done march to the next Pick which stone cold
Saw a white bird by the roadside, wading near the riverbed The sunlight fading, turning skies to darker shades of red And somewhere in a daydream is
feat This little bird Wading through the market's waste We locked eyes felt our lonliness abate True desire showed its face, but only momentarily
Bliss in the sun talking secrets to the hills Giving me chills with the sway of the leaves Wading through water watching birds and bees with my girl
of green I'm not there I won't be seen I'm wading through the waters of my time I'm wading through the waters of my time Don't look for me in lands
beaches Birds and the breeze and pretty palm trees Wading in water up to my knees Hello sunshine Hello beaches See the horizon Far as sky reaches Watching
Wading through what might have been Church bells lofting up from the glen And I hear her singing Feet dragging from a sleepless night
Lone Viking wandered through the desert. The way was covered with dead beasts and birds. Left the world and lost all senses. Forgetting way home, he
astray today We're driven by the heart to stay true to our dreams And realize their way Wading through this lies Like hundred falling birds of pray Try
vain Trapped inside pain Don't let me down Help me see the light Feeling bitter and twisted all along Wading through an empty life too long I close my
Is it fine if I could make the storm inside my mind Go away just for one night Do you hear the birds out there Singing life into all that's been here
my steam Going home Going home Waiting patiently. Oh oh oh For a lightyear Wading through the tears Oh oh oh For the light years Again I hear
So you like Sunday picnics And yelling at the umpire at a baseball game Window shopping, popcorn popping Wading through the puddle in a Summer
I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky And one by one they disappear, I wish that I was flying with them Now you're not here. Like
to Shingles I'm sure The hard part once I begin To look down without falling in I'm still wading through mud And I'm still out here for blood The weight
check your phone I don't know let's stay home It goes on. And. On. And Spring is here again Wading, working, wandering Where we're meant to be Waiting,
Wading through darker rivers With pockets filled with stones I feel I need to let go To learn to fly somehow And so I tell myself that it'll be ok I
You, unbelievably small Bang your hands on the wall Say "To Hell with them all" Say "To Heaven with you" Me, what will become of me? Wading
I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky And one by one they disappear, I wish that I was flying with them Now you're not here. Like
as the year grows old, And darker days are drawing near, The winter winds will be much colder, Now you're not here. I watch the birds fly south across
recognized by a spoon Birds with empty refridgerators heated up the children's chairsweat There was no chance to drive the table without a blue sock
staring like a bird Straight down to the ground What's it gonna take? Who do I have to be? Wilson's smile is sailing on the sea His brother saw what
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