Without showing, the time is wearing out.
Frail paper flowers
bloom and wither
and time is in the heart of us all.
Frail paper flowers,
a half-remembered scent, drunk from the air of yesterday,
and time is in the heart of us all
heartbroken to walk, one last time, the roads we knew.
A half-remembered scent, drunk from the air of yesterday—
sweet, but growing stale.
Heartbroken to walk, one last time, the roads we knew
where newborn grass offers its prayer to heaven, eager for life.
Sweet but growing stale—
life’s journey, life’s treasures, life’s heartbreaks.
Where newborn grass offers its prayer to heaven, eager for life
we lie down and sing them on their way.
Life’s journey, life’s treasures, life’s heartbreaks
bloom and wither.
We lie down and sing them on their way
without showing that the time is wearing out.
