A first step
is just the morning,
unfolding and flowering,
unaware of failure, of doubt.
But this night,
cold as a snowflake,
is an end;
I have a dream to keep.
Then, let that morning come.
A first step
is just the morning,
unfolding and flowering,
unaware of failure, of doubt.
But this night,
cold as a snowflake,
is an end;
I have a dream to keep.
Then, let that morning come.