A short, sweet journey of poetry and song.
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A subtle flare in the distance
Sparks without a sound,
A simple consolation
Like signs of life in a ghost town,
Oh, what’s it coming to now?
Without a sound it stokes the flame
That haunts my mortal frame,
A hopeful celebration
But will it ever be the same?
I can’t say what’s sure to come
Peering through the pouring rain.
Oh what’s it comin’ to, oh what’s it comin’ to now
Oh standin’ over the edge tryin’ hard, not to look down
Oh just give me a hand before we hit the ground,
Cause I don’t wanna to be gone, I just wanna be found.
I just wanna be found.
In vain I search the dark horizon
Dying embers into the night.
There’s a certain kind of freedom found in isolation
Holding on till the morning light.
You’d only need to give the word
And I would rest assured
That there’s a chance we’ll meet again.
In the end, we’ll make it through,
Though the odds aren’t in our favor
I still believe in you,
I still believe in you...
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