A tree without roots will fall down A house with bad foundations will collapse A man must have a place to hang his coat in A place to warm his feet, a place to relax
My roots are in this wounded soil But I've built my foundations to last My coat is all weary, and my feet are bruised But the trouble that I've seen is in the past
My past won't determine my future And everything that matters is now I will find a place to call home I'll make it there someday, somehow
I'll open the sturdy, wooden door I'll leave my shoes in the hall I'll light a fire and sit down on a chair In this glass the sorrow drowns
My roots are in this wounded soil But I've built my foundations to last My coat is weary, and my feet are bruised But the trouble that I've seen is in the past
The only things you must carry with you Are the ones that you decide to take
The only things you must carry with you Are the ones you decide to takeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
