Although I am a dreamer
I wasn't really free
Even though I was a realist
It was a dreamer I would be
Because I was lover
I couldn't really see
And since I became a hater
I was always hating me
Then I was a sister
But one I couldn't really be
And then I was giver
But Giving was not free
And someday I'll be a mother
Only then I'll be me.

She was a forgiver
And he was a river
Where all her tears ran free
From his lies they came to be
And he held his hands out to the sea
And begged for forgiveness
But she was a lover
Who couldn't really see
The life that he left her
Was burdened with his mess
And she would clean it
With the water of her tears
She would sweep it with her cries
But to him it was all a show it was all lies
Cause he knew a forgiver never cries
Instead she always dies
Inside.

The winter mornings are unlike others
When casting shadows of dark dreams have retired,
And all that's given is glory and fire
Fuelling the sparks of the sun on a new day,

But summer evenings are just as magical
The night of warmth with no sign of being tired
The dreams that are coming are already floating in space
and the stars are shining with grace

Yet spring afternoons are always enchanting,
With droplets of rain that are always dancing
There is nothing like the gleam of light shining through foggy haze,

And even then nothing compares to a midnight in fall
When winds are whistling
And trees stand tall
Colours changing with every closing eye,
There is nothing like the seasons at all