Greg O'Connell has been a developer since 1967.
He has a life time of proving himself as a man of his word.
Investing not only his money and time, but his heart in communities.
We were the world, you and I.
We were the world, and
ours were the nights; we had that.
We were night-music, builders of poetry.
We were no annihilated sleepers, no contemporary
passing souls, no simple book. We had
the shining lens of night mirrored
in our faces; everything sweet oratory.
We were the world, and
ours were the nights; we had that.
We were night-music, builders of poetry.
We were no annihilated sleepers, no contemporary
passing souls, no simple book. We had
the shining lens of night mirrored
in our faces; everything sweet oratory.
In the still dawn: no
art in the fretful room,
no life in the radio,
the mirror, dressed in blue;
and me, lost in the smoke
of poetry. No music. And no you.
art in the fretful room,
no life in the radio,
the mirror, dressed in blue;
and me, lost in the smoke
of poetry. No music. And no you.
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