The hours of my life
Tick by
As if endless.
I hear something beyond myself
And wait for its image to appear.
I hope to wake apart from all that
And walk with the sun in my face,
Drying my tears, enveloping my soul.
The hours of my life
Tick by
As if endless.
I hear something beyond myself
And wait for its image to appear.
I hope to wake apart from all that
And walk with the sun in my face,
Drying my tears, enveloping my soul.