| Where the woods would wear the wafting sounds of sea
|
| Roves an oath, in search for something more to be
|
| Still hard for me
|
| Treading lightly, tightly shedding its old skin
|
| Leaving trails of night for light to bring chagrin
|
| While air grows thin
|
| Wailing winds, alarm, in feathers it have dressed
|
| Surrounding what’s left inside its chest
|
| We too shall rest
|
| Roaring lungs, as oath becomes through flight past trees
|
| Only the rhythm of love escapes the harmonies
|
| Leaving us a beat
|
| In these hands I’ll hide, in these hands I’ll hide
|
| While this world collides, this world collides
|
| It’s not enough for me, it’s not enough for me
|
| In these hands I’ll hide, in these hands I’ll hide
|
| While this world collides, this world collides
|
| It’s not enough for me, it’s not enough for me
|
| In these hands I’ll hide, in these hands I’ll hide
|
| (Where the woods would wear the wafting sounds of sea)
|
| While this world collides, this world collides
|
| (Where the woods would wear the wafting sounds of sea)
|
| It’s not enough for me, it’s not enough for me
|
| In these hands I’ll hide, in these hands I’ll hide
|
| While this world collides, this world collides
|
| It’s not enough for me, it’s not enough for me |