C O U N T R Y    H O M E !

Rolling hills tucked in together,
Clothed with green velvet.

Open field of corn tall and proud,
Surround around a pond of blue,
Reflecting the sky with cotton clouds.

Hear the birds' chorus of joy,
Hear the creatures' laboring noise.

Sun comes down to warm the harvest,
Feel its rays upon the face.

Smell the grass, trees and all,
Each provides a mix its own.

Along the path I wander and stroll,
Till I arrive my country home.