I wonder what darkness you’ve already walked through
Make the passion that is sitting down stand up, over and over
Below the purple sky, a hundred year old tree stands
You’re also lonely*
How many people have traveled this way before me?
“I want to be a bit better than I was yesterday,†you struggle
If the hand that holds yours is ever gone, embrace loneliness and walk on bravely alone, walk on…
In order to be kind, should weakness be a blessing?
In order to not let my weaknesses be seen, I patch up strength
My truth is, and my midnight is something forgotten from the far off “pastâ€
If it was now, would I be the same as that time?
If you hold a cowardly sword, then embrace kindness like cotton
In an overly wide pardon,** you cried as you raised your voice
Yes, there are footsteps of the hundred year old tree here
Back to the start…
It’s never a brilliant thing, and people that see it never have envy
While covered in an idea like mud
“I want to be a bit better than I was yesterday,†you struggle
If the hand that holds yours is ever gone,
You have to desire love, and put loneliness in your voice
Make the passion that is sitting down stand up, over and over
Below the purple sky, a hundred year old tree stands
You’re also lonely*
How many people have traveled this way before me?
“I want to be a bit better than I was yesterday,†you struggle
If the hand that holds yours is ever gone, embrace loneliness and walk on bravely alone, walk on…
In order to be kind, should weakness be a blessing?
In order to not let my weaknesses be seen, I patch up strength
My truth is, and my midnight is something forgotten from the far off “pastâ€
If it was now, would I be the same as that time?
If you hold a cowardly sword, then embrace kindness like cotton
In an overly wide pardon,** you cried as you raised your voice
Yes, there are footsteps of the hundred year old tree here
Back to the start…
It’s never a brilliant thing, and people that see it never have envy
While covered in an idea like mud
“I want to be a bit better than I was yesterday,†you struggle
If the hand that holds yours is ever gone,
You have to desire love, and put loneliness in your voice