torsdag 17. november 2011

When you come to the end of a perfect day, And you sit alone with your thought, while the chimes ring out with a carol gay for the joy that the day has brought, Do you think what the end of a perfect day can mean to a tired heart? When the sun goes down with a flaming ray, And the dear friends have to ?...


I don`t mean to say that my troubles are past.
I`ve just got used to them - such is my fate.
Anyway, something has happened at last.
Clouds curl. It rains.
Yet life seems great.
In the woods it looks brighter, at any rate.


And the nearer the end of the journey,
More and more the wind is blowing,
Where will it end ?

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