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If there's Sunday in their eyes, |
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And they can't disguise it, |
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Half-sick of shadows greyer than the fair Elaine knows. |
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It's four hours after twelve, |
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And you're scared of yourself |
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feeling so afraid like a child in an air-raid. |
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And if there's only one reason |
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To live in this world, |
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I'll find it... |
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And if there's only one reason |
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To give of yourself, ask the lonely and the dying. |
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If you're drowning in the doubt, |
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As the candle goes out, |
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Faces at the window and a whispering that won't go. |
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Focus on the dawn |
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And the promise of morning, |
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Look ahead of Winter |
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Let the breath of Summer into you. |
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And if there's only one reason... |
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Ask the lonely and the dying... |
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They're always waiting for morning |
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Always waiting for light to come around |
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Always waiting for morning |
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And the light to come shining in... |
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And if there's only one reason |
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To live in this world, |
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Ask the lonely and the dying. |
