Tracing Paper

Madras

Compositor: Não Disponível

Afraid of the skies at dawn
No longer what I want
Searched through our sheets to find,
Dreams that you left behind
My brittle knees won't hold,
The weight of those words you spoke
And now I feel much like you
How did you grow so old?

Holy water seeps from your eyes,
Keep it close to soul
Streams unkind
Holding on to what was innocent;
Felt it pure and whole,
But now it's gone
It's gone.