In the year of sixty two the land received a soul. A baby cried, a mother smiles,. A hero made of gold. A heart like a burning flame. Beats like an old steam train.
Wouldn't you think that. I'd have it all figured out by now. That I'd know exactly what I'm doing. Wouldn't you think that I'd have a key. To open every melody and sing.
I've been crushed like paper. I've been washed like rain. I've been scared of sleeping. In case I wake up the same. . I've been broken and battered. I've been lost in my home.