This feeling that's reborn again and again, As it works its way up from my toes, Is still without a name.
On the first page, Of this story that's begun, Someone's standing there, amid the wind...
Ahh, the smell of summer grass... the humid air, Accompany the sound of waves conversing. Ahh, I can't help but think, About where this sea is connected to.
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I've gotta be sure to do the things, That can only be done right now, Beaking through those millions of clouds! That feeling welling up inside, Confirms that this is how I should be.
On the first page, Of this story that's begun, I'm standing there, amid the wind.
This feeling that's reborn again and again, As it works its way up from my toes, Is still without a name.
On the first page, Of this story that's begun, Someone's standing there, amid the wind...
Ahh, the smell of summer grass... the humid air, Accompany the sound of waves conversing. Ahh, I can't help but think, About where this sea is connected to.
I've gotta be sure to do the things, That can only be done right now, Beaking through those millions of clouds! That feeling welling up inside, Confirms that this is how I should be.
On the first page, Of this story that's begun, I'm standing there, amid the wind.