There are days when sorrow seems never-ending Like the countless roads upon which I've driven The price of attachment in pursuit of dreams That I so often can't seem to remember Yet there are days when beauty cannot be contained It even crawls out from under ordinary things
A foreigner, no place to go Holding on, making the most Of what little time I have
All the wasted words I said In all the cities that I left The last act of our precious play Must not close with regret
I will not leave whishing I had done things differently
The moments I treasure are seldom the ones That I planned for And if I knew where pain hid I might still let it go So when the audience has run toward the latest drift It will be my time to face the life that I have set
A foreigner in my own home Holding on, no place to go
All the wasted words I said In all the cities that I left The last act of our precious play Must not close with regret (regret) All the wasted words
Some days the line between peace And pain seems more like a blur But I know with certainty I can't leave wishing, I cannot leave I can't leave wishing I'd done things differently
All the wasted words I said In all the cities that I left The last act of our precious play Must not close with regret (regret) All the wasted words