I will let the wind;
Break my fall.
Just to hear,
The sound of the hurricanes call!
Through smoke and fire,
All the fields,
Left me but not,
What is left to yield.
I frame my disgrace,
As I flee from this place.
This place I set fire to alone,
This place I once called my home.
I feel remorse,
I endure regret,
I lift up my head
To say "It'll get better yet!"
I confess what I've done,
I will never runaway,
I will stand and face the cross,
To hear what my punishment is,
For what I did that day!
I walk through the burnt fields of what I did that day,
I absorb the regret,
A single tear sheds from my eye,
to hear one another's voice say,
"It'll get better yet."
Break my fall.
Just to hear,
The sound of the hurricanes call!
Through smoke and fire,
All the fields,
Left me but not,
What is left to yield.
I frame my disgrace,
As I flee from this place.
This place I set fire to alone,
This place I once called my home.
I feel remorse,
I endure regret,
I lift up my head
To say "It'll get better yet!"
I confess what I've done,
I will never runaway,
I will stand and face the cross,
To hear what my punishment is,
For what I did that day!
I walk through the burnt fields of what I did that day,
I absorb the regret,
A single tear sheds from my eye,
to hear one another's voice say,
"It'll get better yet."
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