I'm choosing words that seem to be forgotten. As I use them. These are the same words that let me be forgiven. The minute I choose them. . So I won't try, try, try to sell my advice.
And the moon brings us back. I'm going back over to the islands. In between your smiles. There's a clue whether to scream or be silent. . And the wind blows sad and joyful.
That age old look is in your face. It's been there awhile. Tries not to say. That you've had your day. . But you have a faith. That looks both ways. The look in your eyes.