One day soon, you’ll see the sun, And it will not be leaving; One day soon, you’ll find some time For something else than grieving. One day soon, a fondest hope Will be within achieving — Yes, one day soon, you’ll find it, love, If you can keep Believing
The moon came down to comfort her, To stroke her hair and make her tea — The stars lined up to sing a song And free her from her misery The sunset left it’s curtains up To shield her from her fading fears: The moon came down to comfort her, And wipe away her tears. …
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We have known the music of emptiness, and truth be told, at times, we have sought it. Times when we seek, not to make sense of it all, but to accept the senselessness and vanity that comprises much of life. This is not sadness, it is a hollowness: this us not despair, it is more …
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If wishes could our dreams make true, I’d walk the fading path back home And see the very best of you Beside a sunset polychrome But years come in, and like the tide They bear away our wishes late, To leave an emptiness inside That is our burden and our fate For much that was, …
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I’m really glad you’re happy I’ve worried about you I know we’re very different The things we’ve each been through For trouble’s lined your pathway With much that was not good; And decisions that you’ve made I never really understood But I have always loved you That’s unlikely to cease; I’m really glad you’re happy …
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You dreamed of seeing me up there, Alas, I never made it; I moved beyond, to other things, And your hopes slowly faded Oh yes, you had so many plans For this fly in the ointment: I was a minor talent, but A major disappointment
We will always be just what we are.
when the lines are angled in, don’t pretend you’re lonely; when the pattern’s closing in, don’t put on you’re sad —- light does as it always does, friendship is, where effort was, though the lines be sharpened in, much is to be had if we see that image is little more than lies; when we …
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In the fading light of tomorrow, Every wish gets weighed with great precision On the edge of the lonely island, Where the river fluxes into indecision And I wander along the cliffside, Hoping to find a sign to use, or borrow — But there’s nothing but gold, and rhythm, In the fading light of what’s …
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