24:33

Happiness is of the interminable
it flows from something I desire to be
born from again.

not possible to understand
At such age
that you find it in the flowers, and the rain.
In her smile
Whose eyes held back seas
And mothered the tides.

You’ll find her lyrics
scattered among the dampened days.
One must only look towards the clouds
call for help and break with the sky
She will hear your cries

Left to nothing but a pile of dry raindrops poured devastated, so difficult to grasp.
She sings with the rain,
Water Falls from her lips.