If our lives were just another test
Would we do better than the rest?
Some of us know the answer but we just guess
We know the answer can be right or just cause stress
We just take the easy way so we have to try less
So in the end we don't really know if we did our best.
Friends and family warned us from the very start
To not write in ink on our fading paper hearts
If we do we can't rewrite or less erase
Theres the danger of running out of writing space
Words of love are written in dark red ink
While the words that hurt slowly begin to sink
It slowly fades the sound of our hearts to our ears
The only other way to reflect on love is in the tears
The tears we cry night and day, sunset to sunrise
Our way of recovery is to just turn the page and dry our eyes
We live and we learn with or without the glory
That love can be another faded fabled love story
Its up to us to find the perfect author
Like the one who wrote with his voice, the Abba father
Lets let his love be written in our thoughts
Let his love mend the tears and holes in our paper hearts.
— The End —