cCopywrite 1997 Library of Congress April
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T H E D A N C E
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Misery clings trying,
To pull you down beneath the water.
. As I surface for air, .
Time stands still.
As time stands still,
Moments do not change,
Will not rearrange.
Forcing the memories of happier days,
Filled with extasy, floating free.
Then falling, spinning, spinning, falling...
Into the depths of your eyes,
I close the door so you wont see me cry.
Hopelessly falling...
Will you arms be there to catch me?
So the whispers sigh,
As the wind brushes my skin,
Wondering the reasons why,
Our dance had to die.
m S
To everything there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under
heaven.
-Ecclesiastes 3:1