And0N30

I laugh aloud, stride out the door;
          	Am I a mortal of the weeds on the floor?
          	 
          	Once the roc rides the wind’s call,
          	It soars straight up nine thousand miles tall.
          	 
          	Heaven bred me a soul with talents rare;
          	Gold spent to the winds returns beyond compare.

And0N30

I laugh aloud, stride out the door;
          Am I a mortal of the weeds on the floor?
           
          Once the roc rides the wind’s call,
          It soars straight up nine thousand miles tall.
           
          Heaven bred me a soul with talents rare;
          Gold spent to the winds returns beyond compare.