Molly

**"Where the Sidewalk Ends" By: [|Shel Silverstein] ** There is a place [|where the sidewalk ends] And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk [|ends.]

By: [|Jim Morrison]
 * "THE OPENING OF THE TRUNK"**

Moment of Freedom as the [|prisoner] blinks in the sun like a [|mole] from his hole

a child's first trip away from home

That moment of Freedom

[|Echoes] By: Pink Floyd
Overhead the albatross Hangs motionless upon the air And deep beneath the rolling waves In labyrinths of coral caves An echo of a distant time Comes willowing across the sand And everything is green and submarine.

And no one called us to the land And no one knows the where's or why's. Something stirs and something tries Starts to climb toward the light.

Strangers passing in the street By chance two separate glances meet And I am you and what I see is me. And do I take you by the hand And lead you through the land And help me understand The best I can.

And no one called us to the land And no one crosses there alive. No one speaks and no one tries No one flies around the sun....

Almost everyday you fall Upon my [|waking eyes], Inviting and inciting me To rise. And through the window in the wall Come streaming in on sunlight wings A million bright ambassadors of morning.

And no one sings me lullabyes And no one makes me close my eyes So I throw the windows wide And call to you [|across the sky]....

**Such Great Heights By: The Postal Service**

I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles In our eyes are [|mirror images] and when We kiss they're perfectly aligned And I have to speculate that [|God] himself Did make us into corresponding shapes like Puzzle pieces from the clay And true, it may seem like a stretch, but Its thoughts like this that catch my troubled Head when you're away when I am missing you to death When you are out there on the road for Several weeks of shows and when you scan The radio, I hope this song will guide you home

They will see us waving from such great Heights, 'come down now,' they'll say But everything looks perfect from far away, 'come down now,' but we'll stay...

I tried my best to leave this all on your Machine but the persistent beat it sounded Thin upon listening And that frankly [|will not fly]. You will hear The shrillest highs and lowest lows with The windows down when this is guiding you home