| You pave the way through thick, stale air | |
| shower a maiden rain | |
| and in this cascade of memories | |
| you wonder | |
| what is the day? | |
| Like this feels, nothing ever will | |
| Life reveals, kicks in and heals me for a day | |
| So I guess I paved my way | |
| never questioning means nor meaning | |
| and in this cascade | |
| aching for significance | |
| what is the day? | |
| When doubt creeps to the surface, with | |
| sunlight brushed away | |
| then, in these lonely moments, tell me, | |
| What is a day? | |
| Like this feels. nothing ever will | |
| Life reveals, kicks me and heals me for a day | |
| Like this feels (without a word or whisper) | |
| nothing ever will | |
| Life reveals (without a what or why) | |
| He walks in and heals me for a day |
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