When the sun shines, it shines for you. When the wind blows, the grass follows suit. And I feel it too, when the cold wind hits my shoes, but the sun only shines for you.
The moon was made for me. Hanging in the sky every graceful. I wonder why, sometimes it seemed to cry and there, with the moon, sobbing I'd be. Knowing the moon was made for me.
Sure as I sit here under my willow tree Contemplating how much better life can be. Wondering my sorrow would ever flee? Knowing that tomorrow, the sun would come through.
It entered into the sky like a bright ballon.
Yet forever trapped I am in my mental room. I dream trees and suns, I dream of the moon.
I lay stuck in the shade of my brain, consumed.
No light ever enters this tomb.
So the sun only shines for you.