I am driving home on a road that someone plowed,
slept right through the storm on another stranger’s couch,
now the weather’s past, the cars come crawling out,
finally at last the sun breaks through the clouds..
the world is wrapped in snow like a body in a shroud,
but they shoveled off the road, so it’s safe to leave this town,
the sky is wrapped in gray wool for the wind to blow around,
above it’s as below, till the sun breaks through the clouds,
every day’s a gift, I think every days a shout that keeps
ringing in our ears, though we try to tune it out,
how could I have missed this beauty all about?
the way the sun breaks through the clouds..
once we tried to love with everything we had,
it wasn’t very much, and it turned from good to bad,
that was long ago, but it doesn’t make me proud,
if I told you so, would the sun break through the clouds?
every day’s a gift, I think every days a shout that keeps
ringing in our ears, though we try to tune it out,
how could I have missed this beauty all about?
the way the sun breaks through the clouds..
once we tried to love with everything we had,
which wasn’t very much, so it turned from good to bad,
that was long ago, but it doesn’t make me proud,
and if I told you so, would the sun break through the clouds?
now the weather’s past, the cars come crawling out,
finally at last the sun breaks through the clouds…
Leave a Reply