|
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 song |
|
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, |
|
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 song |
|
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. |
|
You are the song |
|
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. |
