Bright comes the morning Transforms the night Light with no warning Forms one to fight A creature awakens Being born for the bite No need for moods contrite New and old in nature's mold
Burrowed and buried last summer's scurry A knife in the wound we call time Beneath the surface still lies all worry But also an expanse to climb Survived a winter, another, once more Awaken never in my prime Wounding something that also wields a knife Limits the expanse called life time
Bright comes the morning Transforms the night Light with no warning Forms one to fight A creature awakens Being born for the bite No need for moods contrite New and old in nature's moldTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
