There's magic in these fields.
There's a beauty in these brooks,
The wonder of the greens.
To see, to see the fabulous trees!
The stones, unknowing of skyscraper
Or cement paver.
The green, the green, the beautiful green.
Untouched purity so rare in this world.
Hear my plea,
Answer my call.
I implore of you, babbling brook,
Babble to me,
Speak a little longer.
I beg of you, fair birds of the wing,
Sing to me,
Let me hear your songs a little longer.
I must hear of your sacred perfection,
The one thing right,
In a world gone wrong.