I feel off light; light is my source
|
All evil thoughts and pathful memorties are washed away
|
By the radiance of golden spring
|
|
Standing as a flaming torch on the road of time
|
Past, present and future gathered in one force
|
Physical pleasure; summer is mine
|
|
I'm dying in the darkness
|
I'm living in the light
|
|
I'm but a song, a voice in the wind
|
And I feel like flying
|
|
The wheel has turned
|
The flame still burns
|
No more hiding under the ice
|
I'm but a song; the wind carries me on
|
The bird of light shall rise
|
|
I feed off ligh; light is my source
|
Past, present and future gathered in one force
|
|
Summer I greet thee
|
Thou art my time
|
And I feel like flying
|
|
The wheel has turned
|
The flame still burns
|
No more hiding under the ice
|
I'm but a song; the wind carries me on
|
The bird of light shall rise
|
As winter dies
|
|
Hot is the fire now burning
|
Bright are the songs they play
|
But when the winter spirits
|
Once more take the sun away
|
Will it be free
|
Will it be free
|
Will it be free
|
|
-----------------
|
The Bird
|
| Wuthering Heights |
