| Hosanna, come to me, fly like the wind and the waves on the beach |
| You rode a bird to the sea; I drove my car to the ocean breeze |
| Open with matchless deviotion |
| Even when the long letter cries |
| waiting for the sun to begin to be more than fire in the sky |
| but the light is bright |
| If I am yours, and you are mine, why do I find myself waiting in line? |
| Tomorrow will come, tomorrow we’ll run, tomorrow I’ll be waiting on the breeze |
| But I’m running |
| Running is something I’m made of |
| But running don’t bring me to truth |
| Weary to trust in the wind |
| Like a seed in the sand I begin |
| Remember when I believed in you? |
| Even still, dripping with youth |
| Apparently the key is inside me |
| And rest is the means to bestow |
| I thought this was all but alone |
| Unearthing more than I’d sewn |
| Butr dreaming about going home |
| Then my mother, she cried to me, she ran out the door so I couldn’t see |
| And how my sorrow it laid me down, I thought about truth and where it was found |
| But then one day I, I found that I’d lied |
| To myself to keep from waiting on reason |
| I learned when the morning struck twelve again; the day was not over |
| It was just where it began |
| Hosanna, come to me, fly like the wind and the waves on the beach |
| You rode a bird to the sea; I drove my car to the ocean breeze |