All young gentle dreams drowning In life's grief Can you hang on to me?

Without the pain there'd be no learning Without the hurting we'd never change.

Your name is being called by sacred things That are not addressed nor listened to. Sometimes they blow trumpets.

Ooh find me the man with the ladder And he might lift me up to the stars.

'T is now the summer of your youth. Time has not cropt the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay, Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away, Gone from the earth to a better land I know, I hear their g…

I still dream about Kurt. Every time I see him in a dream, I'll be amazed and I get this feeling that everyone else thinks he's dead. It always feels totally r…