Having no robins on the windowsill and loves in which to grieve
What can you dream of now, which you still believe?
Having known snow in winter and burst of blooms in spring
What can you seek now, to make your heart still sing?
And if there should be nothing new, might not the same wonders do?
And if there should be nothing old, might not new wonders still unfold?
Should nothing new or old appeal. Still friends will ask "how do you feel?"
I'm ready. Been searching come and find you, hold on steady
Maybe, my arms are on you tell me if you, want me. Reach me
Let the ba** unwind you, you might, feel me
I'm ready. I can reach you, maybe baby you might feel me