Standing inside a golden ray,
Your starlight gaze
Your warm embrace
Outshines the pain
Some words, they say,
Burn out the flame
Your hands may shake,
And if you break
Through it, we’ll find a way

Oh, where do the days go?
Why, when you’re young,
Does it feel as though the clocks move slow?
Time, I wish we could turn back,
And then I would,
Move free flow slow, and savour every moment we touch

Flipping through the books we would read,
You’d make...