Bright v1

Sunday morning and the light is fine

In the beating of a bird's wing, I come alive

I was dreaming of a love song, but what good is love when the wind starts blowing?

Nothing forgotten, nothing forgiven when the night comes to an end

Like the bird on the windowsill, I tremble through the passing shadow

Close my eyes and count to ten until

I'm in the bright light, forgetting my name

The shadow of our lives, familiar but strange

Without enough darkness left to hide all the pain

I'm in the bright light again