The strum of a guitar, or the beat of the drums
is what gets me through the rain that comes
and drenches the uneven roads of gravel
with a sadness. We do not want to travel.
It's you that I see in the midst of this haze.
I'm lost, but I find that I belong in your gaze.
Forward- for there's no other way to reach you
And this time fear will not take me askew.
I can hear your voice chime from a distance,
singing the words that make me glad of my existence
My name echoes louder each time you call;
maybe I'm getting closer, or nowhere at all.
But from these heights, I can see where I belong-
in your arms; you were my home all along.
is what gets me through the rain that comes
and drenches the uneven roads of gravel
with a sadness. We do not want to travel.
It's you that I see in the midst of this haze.
I'm lost, but I find that I belong in your gaze.
Forward- for there's no other way to reach you
And this time fear will not take me askew.
I can hear your voice chime from a distance,
singing the words that make me glad of my existence
My name echoes louder each time you call;
maybe I'm getting closer, or nowhere at all.
But from these heights, I can see where I belong-
in your arms; you were my home all along.

Join the Discussion
This article has 3 comments. Post your own now!