Your words are the blanket
When the night is cold enough to break me.
It is then that I can trust.
In celebration of the air we breathe,
We place all regrets aside.
Is to let go of the last.
How beautiful heaven must be.
Is an echo of your grace.
It is then that I can trust in you.
To see beyond beauty, skin deep.
How beautiful heaven must be. More from Sleeping At Last