I've fallen into a question of cause I've fallen in love I hate waking the spirit in sleep missing the event of a kiss I hear the breath of the past I feel it in the breeze Knowing no stategies it passes through the trees The moon is my friend The night sky was meant for me I love to whistle to the thin clouds in the breeze When I'm with you I drift into another light I can see far, faraway into this live night Copyright © 2009 John E. WordSlinger