2014年8月4日星期一

The Things You Are To Me






2014.08.03 黃昏日落





Secret Garden

The Things You Are To Me








If I held in my hand,
every grain of sand,
Since time first began to be,
Still, I could never count,

measure the amount,

Of all the things you are to me,




If I could paint the sky,
hang it out to dry,
I would want the sky to be
Oh,such a grand design,
an everlasting sign,
Of all the things you are to me.


You are the song
that comes on summer winds,
You are the falling year
that autumn brings;
You are the wonder
and the mystery
In everything I see
the things you are to me.


Sometimes,I wake at night,
suddenly take fright,
You might be just fantasy,
But then you reach for me
and once again I see,
All the things you are to me.


You are the song
that comes on summer winds,
You are the falling year
that autumn brings;
You are the wonder
and the mystery
In everything I see
the things you are to me.


You are the song
that comes on summer winds,
You are the falling year
that autumn brings;
You are the wonder
and the mystery
In everything I see
the things you are to me.

All the things you are to me.






























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