There is magic in the thin, upper realms
Where the stars may kiss your forehead
And snow swirls are iced down on land
As clouds stream by from all directions.
The sun speeds forward to meet them,
Where tomorrow becomes a new day.
(Flights to Egypt)
There is magic in the thin, upper realms
Where the stars may kiss your forehead
And snow swirls are iced down on land
As clouds stream by from all directions.
The sun speeds forward to meet them,
Where tomorrow becomes a new day.
(Flights to Egypt)