One always on the road somewhere, the other one always stays too often unhappy. When you are moving in different directions, true love is all alone. Old stories start to surface, patterns from long ago. The strongest heart can be broken with one insensitive word. The deepest feelings remain unspoken, no one is seen and nothing heard. One always wants to work things out, the other one wants to play.
When you are moving in different directions, true love can turn to hate. One being like an open window, one just like closing a door. One likes to see the morning sunrise, the other one sleeps in late. Too many tomorrows, too many times too late. When you are moving in different directions, true love may have to wait. If you are committed to different directions, true love will have to wait.
We were live on arrival, safe home at last. Not cannon fire dockside, no flags half-mast. We were sold out for silver and a string of black pearls on the loneliest island at the edge of the world.
No room on the lifeboat, you can hold on to me. Hold on to me, hold on to me. In our eyes are the stories, the rope and the brand. Hold on to me, hold on to me, hold on to me. There is a river that runs from the mountains, that one river is all rivers, all rivers are that one. There is a tree that stands in the forest, that one tree is all forests, all trees are that one.
There is a flower that blooms in the desert, that one blossom is all flowers, all flowers are that one. It is the song of life, it is the flower of faith, it is the tree of temptation it is the river of no regret. There is a child that cries in the ghetto, that one child is all children, all children are that one. There is a vision that shines in the darkness, that one vision is all of our dreams, all of our dreams are that one.
It is a vision of heaven, it is a child of promise, it is the song of life, it is the river of no regret. Let this be a voice for the mountains, let this be a voice for the river, let this be a voice for the forest, let this be a voice for the flowers, let this be a voice for the ocean, let this be a voice for the desert, let this be a voice for the children, let this be a voice for the dreamers, let this be a voice of no regret, no regret.
Home, come on home, ye who are weary, come home. Softly and tenderly calling, home, come on home. Still sometimes I fall to pieces, scatter and lost everywhere. Stand up and face your reflection, the feelings you try to ignore. Stream album: Spotify. The Foxfire Suite. Chained To The Wheel. Please enable JavaScript in your browser to use the site fully.
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