Sunday morning
And the light is fine
In the beating of a bird's wing
I come alive
I was dreaming of a love song
But what good is love
When the wind starts blowing
Nothing forgotten
Nothing forgiven
When the night comes to an end
Like the bird on the windowsill
I tremble
Through the passing shadow
Close my eyes and count to ten
Until
I'm in the bright light
Forgetting my name
The shadow of our lives
Familiar but strange
Without enough darkness left to
Hide all the pain
I'm in the bright light again