Where there is a little light
just a fickle flame
just a fickle flame
It wont burn for long
A wind could take it so easily
Where there is a small drop
No bigger then a tear
It cant hold its shape
the sun would take it so quickly
when there is little time
just a mere moment
it will pass so hastily
its not ours to keep
But the passing of time is but the passing of pain
What the sun took will come back again as rain
We will learn to feel our way through the dark
And treasure the memory of the light
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