PARADISE
by Marsha Shane
PARADISE
by Marsha Shane
You are but a southern boy,
Don't cast your spell on me;
I am but a northern wind,
And the wind has to be free;
You speak to me of azaleas,
honeysuckle, dogwood, and pine;
Of black-eyed peas, ice cold tea,
And watermelon on the vine;
With a voice as sweet as honey,
And skin kissed by the sun;
You make me think of paradise,
Where we could play and run.