opening the doors
|
opening the rooms to us
|
a hope to transcend
|
this deadened consciousness
|
i call my home
|
so passion drains the pain away
|
biting through
|
as ice storms wait to pierce the flesh
|
and i wait too
|
passion drains the pain away
|
biting through
|
as ice storms wait to pierce the flesh
|
and i¡¦and i¡¦
|
a wild eyed child running faster than
|
the echo of her mother's loving voice
|
of her mother's loving voice¡¦
|
closing over us all
|
opening the doors
|
opening the rooms to us
|
a prayer now to feel again
|
the warmth of memories
|
i call my home
|
so spellbound into this domain
|
of dreamlike waters' heavy groan
|
it is nothing more than that
|
than that which we have always known
|
so spellbound into this domain
|
of dreamlike waters' heavy groan
|
it is nothing more than that
|
which we¡¦which we¡¦
|
that six months is not long enough
|
to forget that everything erased will be written again
|
everything erased will be written again
|
and for now we know,
|
and for now we know,
|
the waiting is until the end
|
the waiting is until the end
|
the waiting is until the end
|
the waiting all alone
|
|
-----------------
|
A Waiting Time
|
Autumn (Rock) |