| I can feel the days are colder
|
| And the laughter’s getting hard
|
| But before the tears start rolling
|
| I have some things to say
|
| My thoughts are never broken
|
| Like a winding mountain stream
|
| Collectin' at the bottom
|
| As I slowly begin to dream
|
| What can start with a whisper
|
| Can become the loudest sound
|
| Scattering the heartache
|
| Like the waves upon the sand
|
| Throw your arms around me
|
| This will be your last embrace
|
| In our footsteps, in our shadows
|
| There is nothing but a trace, but a trace that’s left
|
| And the yellow of the sunrise
|
| Glows against my wooden door
|
| And I lie there beside you
|
| Still as the stolen night
|
| I can feel the days are getting colder
|
| But the laughter never tires
|
| As the steps are getting lighter
|
| Now I slowly start to fall
|
| Throw your arms around me
|
| This will be your last embrace
|
| In our footsteps, in our shadows
|
| There is nothing but a trace, but a trace that’s left
|
| Now or never, here and after
|
| Now or never, here and after
|
| Now or never, here and after
|
| Now or never, here and after |