| When my morning comes around
|
| No one else will be there
|
| So I won’t have to worry about
|
| What I’m supposed to say
|
| And I alone will know that
|
| I climbed that great big mountain
|
| And that’s all that will matter
|
| When my morning comes around
|
| When my morning comes around
|
| I will look back on this valley
|
| At these side-walks and alleys
|
| Where I lingered for so long
|
| And this place where I now live
|
| Will burn to ash and cinder
|
| Like some ghost I won’t remember
|
| When my morning comes around
|
| When my morning comes around
|
| From a new cup I’ll be drinking
|
| And for once I won’t be thinking
|
| That there’s something wrong with me
|
| And I’ll wake up and find
|
| That my faults have been forgiven
|
| And that’s when I’ll start living
|
| When my morning comes around |