If I held in my hand, every grain of sand
Since time first began to be Still I could never count, measure the amount Of all the things you are to me
If I could paint the sky, hang it out to dry
I would want the sky to be Oh, such a grand design, an everlasting sign Of all the things you are to me You are the sun, that comes on summer winds You are the falling year, that autumn brings You are the wonder and the mystery In everything I see, The things you are to me Sometimes I wake at night, and suddenly take fright You might be just fantasy But then you reach for me, and once again I see All the things you are to me
You are the sun, That comes on summer winds
You are the falling year, that autumn brings You are the wonder and the mystery In everything I see, the things you are to me
All the things you are… to me |
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