I was young you were old
I was eight you were old...

As i close my eyes
i look into the inner depth of my soul...

As I look into the sky
I see the doves fly...

As i hold you close
for fear of letting go...

This little lady i love
far more beautiful than a dove...

Inside I die
As I lay in bed and cry...

As i look into the past
how do i last...

As I look into the sky
I ask myself why I cry...

It was an hour before dawn
Why are these voices not yet gone...

An hour be for dawn
the voices are not yet gone...

Good or bad
happy or sad...

How do i lose my pain
how do i lose my sorrow...