Sometimes in the dead of the night,
when darkenes shrouds everything in sight,
the chaos of daylight is yet to leave
I let the whispers of my heart
do all the talking.
And in moments as rare as
black pearl in an oyster
I find
I hear melodies
like someone just orchestrated
all that noise
that drowns my voice out
and clouds the insides of me
filling me with a music,
lending a whistle to my soul,
lifting that veil,
dissolving the mist,
till I can clearly see
All I need is some waking.
Hear a little less,
listen to it more,
so I can run the entire stretch of dunes
before me,
I can do all my walking.
Every now then
when the whispers grow louder
I should let them do all the talking.
when darkenes shrouds everything in sight,
the chaos of daylight is yet to leave
I let the whispers of my heart
do all the talking.
And in moments as rare as
black pearl in an oyster
I find
I hear melodies
like someone just orchestrated
all that noise
that drowns my voice out
and clouds the insides of me
filling me with a music,
lending a whistle to my soul,
lifting that veil,
dissolving the mist,
till I can clearly see
All I need is some waking.
Hear a little less,
listen to it more,
so I can run the entire stretch of dunes
before me,
I can do all my walking.
Every now then
when the whispers grow louder
I should let them do all the talking.