The sounds, they bend, filling all the spaces
and I hear, the wind and rain, in perfect harmony
singing through the pane
And the dearest friend, the light, left me long ago to see the world
and I wait, for his return, he’ll show me all the things
that I long to learn
And the voice was hard and cold, filled with all the struggle of growing old
and I pressed his hand to my heart
“don’t ever be afraid of going back to the start”
And the dearest friend returns, but all I hoped he’d know
I’d learned on my own