Sunday Mail
We shall be free
So have a little faith
And hold out
We shall be free
SOME TALKING IN THE BACKGROUND
This ain't comin' from no prophet
Just an ordinary man
When I close my eyes I see
The way this world shall be
When we all walk hand in hand
When the last child cries for a crust of bread
When the last man dies for just words that he said
When there's shelter over the poorest head
Then we shall be free
When the last thing we notice is the color of skin
And the first thing we look for is the beauty within
When t
She Took The Wind From His Sails
Outer banks of North Carolina
Lies a sleepy harbor town
Generations of old sailors
Dropped their sails and settled down
Sam he is a young seafarer
Grandson fo a schooner man
Catherine is a sailmaker抯 daughter
Today he抯 gonna take her hand
Calm waters
Wish them well
His ship抯 come in
She抯 put the wind in his sails
Catherine is a canvas painter
Paints the sun and sand and sea
Lately she抯 been painting a portrait
Sammy is a dad to be
Calm waters
Wish them well
His ship抯 come in
She抯 put the wind in his sails
January brought the fever
Sam was right there by her side
Doctor told him son I抦 sorry
But Catherine needs your prayers tonight
Morning light brought Sam a daughter
Fever took his better half
Sam gave Catherine to the water
As he held theit baby to his chest
Calm waters
Wished him well
His ship came in
But she took the wind from his sails
His ship came in
But she took the wind from his sails