If you read this line,
remember not the hand that wrote it
Remember only the verse,
songmaker's cry the one without tears
For I've given this its strength
and it has become my only strength.
Comforting home, mother's lap,
chance for immortality
where being wanted
became a thrill I never knew
The sweet piano writing down my life
Teach me passion for I fear it's gone
Show me love, hold the lorn
So much more I wanted to give to the ones who love me
I'm sorry
Time will tell (this bitter farewell)
I live no more to shame nor me nor you
And you,
I wish I didn't feel for you anymore..
someone once said that a writer’s work is the distillation of their soul. the hand that holds the pen matters.
[cicero]