Vs1 The days when we laid under the moon and stars When we slept in bamboo beds Without a care in the world When the banging of the talking drum Was the music to our dance Those days when we ran along the streets With leather bags tied together with sack ropes for footballs When we would go to the stream and splash around Even bathing was an occasion Then we would mile around When the ones from the city came All the tales they told seeming like dreams Then our mothers would cook food in the outdoors We would slowly wander around her With high hopes for a taste. MY PAST VS2 Now, our moonlight tales Have been replaced by family movie night We call it thus in desperate hope for a hint of the past But yet, I wonder if this is really so When we are so caught up in the rush of life Yet, I know this, Our hearts strain for the connection once more We strain for the touch The feel of nature The feel of one another The connection Are we too lost to find ourselves on...