When the warmth of the day becomes the night
who could sleep beneath a strange moonlight?
No guiding star.
So far from home.
Walked the way of promise to find but snow.
Throughout, the voice of the winds brings nothing more
than low echoes,
so far from home.
Even from a child
a wish is not enough.
For me,
for me
the sky may fall,
and even from a child
a dream is not enough,
could be,
could be
the sky may fall,
could be,
could be
the night ends all.
No rains could weep as I have wept
to know a simple dream will not be kept.
I am a child
so far from home.
One by one the sky falls
(as with the night, sleep ends all.)
I may not awaken.
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