it is best to write a song, which is what trish and i did today. it's about iowa and love.
We place our weary hands
In the fields that we work
And toss heaps of earth
To protect our fragile hearts
And we dig, we dig, and we dig
In Iowa.
We drove from Rochester to Cropseyville
Just to see you my dear.
Will you harvest my heart,
My sad and lonely heart,
My little Iowa sweet.
We may act a little shy
When we look in your eyes
But don't be confused
We were once made out of straw
And we swayed, we swayed, and we swayed
Down in Iowa.
We drove from Rochester to Cropseyville
Just to see you my dear.
Will you harvest my heart,
My sad and lonely heart,
My little Iowa sweet.
In the place where we meet
We let the corn grow in heaps
We walk through the felds
And let the dew stick to our knees,
And we sing, we sing, and we sing,
Down in Iowa.
Who'd think that all that love
Would come from one little seed
My lovely Iowa sweet.
Who'd think that all that love
Would come from one little seed
My lovely Iowa sweet.
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With one heart in Burma and a few others in America, this daily sketchboat will sail across that vast, interminable expanse of ocean to bring us happy friends together again.
3 comments:
Oh my gosh, I have such a big girl crush on you both. How do you both manage to be so lovely and spread joy wherever you go?
that was miraculous. it made my morning so bright! for real guyz. you have amazing talent :)
there isnt enough sticky rice in thailand for me to build a proper monument to your awesomeness.
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