When conversation's lost the sentiment of
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Butterflies, exciting sparks, discovery,
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Get lost.
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Months and years get thrown aside too quickly.
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Heard all the stories. Butterflies tired of fluttering.
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Hold on tightly.
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Not all your bridges have been crossed.
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Take a breath walk one more.
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Falling stars surround
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And grant their wishes to the eye's that keep on looking for them,
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Holding faith and dream and dream of gold.
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Not all the bridges have been crossed
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Come with me walk one more.
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Dream Of Gold
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| Bugs In Amber |
