Your eyes
This ocean
No words do them right
I pray
Pray, "Oh Maker…Maker make my song worth life"
A song
My song
It fails unless it gives new meaning
To life
This life
But there is nothing I can add tonight
There’s magic in the fact that something as pure as love
Can never quite be conjured by words
But man must aim to conquer heaven from earth
He’ll fail
He’ll cry: "Is anybody out there who’ll show me
How to come to peace with how lowly
Every effort I make within me
To describe a sunset or this oak tree
Is when I compare it to the beauty
Of the sight I behold before me"