Love come, down upon us. Till you flow like water. Burning with the hope of insight. Feathered, look they're covered. With a bright elation. Stolen in the sight of love.
I'm not yet convinced that pride will come before a fall. I have seen you standing in your Sunday best and all. Waiting for a fool to take you further than you are.
A different set of eyes for every story. A heaven not so far away from hell. A bittersweet reminder of the way things used to be. Before that love we had around us slipped and fell.
I see myself and where I'm standing in the scheme of things. I'm not afraid to say I might have lost my way one thing I pray. These roots I'm growing won't be pulled up with the first ill wind.