I am someone you can count on.
If I say I will, I do.
If I say I can, it’s true.
I labor on when the rest are gone.

You can trust me with your secrets.
I’ve no need to tell the world.
My gossip flag is always furled.
So you will never have regrets.

I’m the one who’ll stand beside you
As you wade through thick and thin.
I’ll be like your next of kin
And I will always see you through.
ljm

whoooo is there behiiind the skyyy,
whoooo is there behiiind the cloooouds,
and the suuuun when briiiightly shiiiining,
whoooo is there behind the niiiight,

whoooo is there behiiiiind, behiiiind,
whoooo is there my deeeear, my daaaarling,
whooo is there behiiiind the staaaars,
whooo is there behiiiind the staaaars,

whoooo is there behiiiind the raaaain,
when the drops fall dooown and dooown,
who is there behind your miiiind,
whoooo is there my deeear, my daaaarling,

who is there behind the skyyy,
whoooo is there behiiind the cloooouds,
who is there in your heeeeart,
who is there behiiind, behiiind,
whooooooo is there if noooot the wiiiiind,

whooo is there if nooot the wiiind,
whoo is there if not the wind,

i know you have been dreaming,
i won't disturb your sleep,
we've always been together as if we have one birth one breath,
wildflowers,
wildflowers,
we've always  been together at sunrise and sunset,
we never missed one day one night,
and now,
my darling,
and here,  my dear,  the time arrived and i will kiss you,
and i will give  you a goodbye kiss
as wildflowers have no spare ideas,  and don't care where they grow,
and don't care where they dry
and die,
and they will always be there, somewhere, there, out, like love,
in between the clouds and the stones,
in between the drops of rain and drops of hearts
tangled in the grass, thank god we don't have to cry,
and if we do
there is no need to hide our tears and be the subject of madness
as we can grow anywhere, anyhow, as wildflowers do,
in the soil or sand, in the rain and sunshine,
in the storm,
on the mountains,  and watch the eagles fly and dance,
and watch the eagles as they vanish behind the clouds,
behind the sky

it must have been the sun the wind
the elation of the singing birds
that I fell into a sweet slumber
in no time I was dreaming
the storms in our eyes had met &
the stones got deeper

Does it matter whether the log is burned from the front or the back?

Life is a log with two burning ends.