You pave a way through thick, stale air,
shower a maiden rain.
and in this cascade of memories you wonder
what is a day?
Like this feels, nothing ever will.
Life reveals, kicks in and heals me for a day.
So I guess I paved my way,
never questioning means nor meaning
and in this cascade of memories, aching for significance,
what is a day?
When doubt creeps to the surface, with sunlight brushed away,
then, in these lonely moments, tell me, what is a day?
Like this feels, nothing ever will.
Life reveals, kicks in and heals me for a day.
Like this feels (without a word or whisper, ) nothing ever will.
Life reveals (without a what or why.) He walks in and heals me for a day.