What s left of the sun

Values measured out by sounds and smells Each step rewarded with sights Astonishing to untrained eyes Still undefiled by obligations Still a stra nger to remorse Overwhelmed by the stretch of horizons...

How fast will the maples turn yellow And light our walk in the park To live is to travel a journey From the roots to the outer bark The story will end When the breeze falls asleep And everything is...

And so the window opens And sunlight stains pale untouched skin And so the window opens And sunlight stains pale untouched skin

I grew accustomed to every page looking the same And every morning I tell the same story But every night I dream about change And I know I might be digging in despondency here Or maybe it's just fear...

These blocks bring back memories Of the very gravel on the streets Where a thousand dreams were born And shattered at young feet The feeling in the air here takes me on a solemn trip to my youth Old...