Quietly I watch you sleep
Wondering if you can hear what I say...
Fill up my hole,
Dig out my rotten core...
This thing called love,
It must be good...
Lightning bolts through the sky,
Thunder rumbles through the clouds...
It seems so wrong not to know your Mother's voice.
What did you sound like...
A heart can be loved or broken. A heart is made of gold. A heart should be treasured and always to hold. |