Roaming sheep in search of the place you've never known
Listen to the wind until you can hear the sign
Roaming sheep in front of the gate that closed so tight
Take a rest on the earth, until you can find the key
Roaming sheep in search of the people full of love
Bathe yourself in water until your mind soothes again
Roaming sheep in front of the deep and dreamless sleep
Here you're by the fire, able to warm your heart...
Each and every moment, oh as time goes by
All in this world has to change...
Roaming sheep in search of the place you've never known
Better take a breath until you can hear the sign
Roaming sheep in search of the place you've never seen
Better watch your step until you can find the key
Roaming sheep in search of the place you may never reach
Better love yourself; tomorrow's another day.
Roaming Sheep~Nobuo Uematsu
Where is home? The answer to this question differs to every person. It could be a simple house or cottage in town. Or maybe deep in the woods. It could be a castle. It could be a room in an inn. It could be in someone's arms. Everyone seeks their own, personal home in a variety of places, be it some place simple or some place fancy.
Lydia's new home was by no means fancy.
It was nothing more than an old, destroyed fortress, missing a wall, overgrown with plants and moss. It was discovered by accident one day, during a long walk, longer than usual, through the woods. It was abandoned, no one had been there for quite some time... most rooms were destroyed, rubble had caved in rendering them unlivable. One room however, still had a small, musty cot, most of the original structure was up, and despite the cramped quarters, awful stench of roses, dampness of the stones, holes in the walls...it was still livable. For the most part at least.
It was free, deep in the woods where she wouldn't be bothered...so who could argue with that?
"More roses!?"
Well, no home is perfect...
Listen to the wind until you can hear the sign
Roaming sheep in front of the gate that closed so tight
Take a rest on the earth, until you can find the key
Roaming sheep in search of the people full of love
Bathe yourself in water until your mind soothes again
Roaming sheep in front of the deep and dreamless sleep
Here you're by the fire, able to warm your heart...
Each and every moment, oh as time goes by
All in this world has to change...
Roaming sheep in search of the place you've never known
Better take a breath until you can hear the sign
Roaming sheep in search of the place you've never seen
Better watch your step until you can find the key
Roaming sheep in search of the place you may never reach
Better love yourself; tomorrow's another day.
Roaming Sheep~Nobuo Uematsu
Where is home? The answer to this question differs to every person. It could be a simple house or cottage in town. Or maybe deep in the woods. It could be a castle. It could be a room in an inn. It could be in someone's arms. Everyone seeks their own, personal home in a variety of places, be it some place simple or some place fancy.
Lydia's new home was by no means fancy.
It was nothing more than an old, destroyed fortress, missing a wall, overgrown with plants and moss. It was discovered by accident one day, during a long walk, longer than usual, through the woods. It was abandoned, no one had been there for quite some time... most rooms were destroyed, rubble had caved in rendering them unlivable. One room however, still had a small, musty cot, most of the original structure was up, and despite the cramped quarters, awful stench of roses, dampness of the stones, holes in the walls...it was still livable. For the most part at least.
It was free, deep in the woods where she wouldn't be bothered...so who could argue with that?
"More roses!?"
Well, no home is perfect...