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There's a hand in my pocket
searching for change
There's a man in the mirror,
his hair's turning grey.
His first, crashing through the air, constant despair
and I lost my copy of Vanity Fair
Now that you've come this far,
Come this far
an you accept who you are
Who you are
Horizons
With eyes staring wide open, an African child
He taught me how to blink and I couldn't smile
Then I spoke to the silence drawn with a, fade with a laughter
From the well of clear water, the remnants of hope echoed after
Now that hating's been done
The hating's done
Snd you've no qualms with anyon
Horizons
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