Seclusion among the ferns of what seems like a mystical forest by flourishing elms and and oaks. Looking up at twilight's dwellings up above, where the stars sit on their perches to await dawn... That lunar crescent forever hangs there, just another star that seems so much closer, half covered by what you sit upon right then. That is a true paradise. Just to let yourself escape to those divine heavens...
Seclusion among the ferns of what seems like a mystical forest by flourishing elms and and oaks. Looking up at twilight's dwellings up above, where the stars sit on their perches to await dawn... That lunar crescent forever hangs there, just another star that seems so much closer, half covered by what you sit upon right then. That is a true paradise. Just to let yourself escape to those divine heavens...
Seclusion among the ferns of what seems like a mystical forest by flourishing elms and and oaks. Looking up at twilight's dwellings up above, where the stars sit on their perches to await dawn... That lunar crescent forever hangs there, just another star that seems so much closer, half covered by what you sit upon right then. That is a true paradise. Just to let yourself escape to those divine heavens...
'This must be Thursday,' said Arthur to himself, sinking low over his beer. 'I never could get the hang of Thursdays.' — Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
