God, our merciful father, I'm wrapped in a robe of light, Clothed in your glory That spreads its wings over my soul. Maybe I be worthy Amen.
There's not a morning I begin without A thousand questions running through my mind, That I don't try to find the reason and the logic In the world that God designed. The reason why a bird was given wings, If not to fly and praise the sky With every song it sings. What's right or wrong, Where I belong Within the scheme of things... And why have eyes that see And arms that reach Unless you're meant to know There's something more? If not to hunger for the meaning of it all, Then tell me what a soul is for? Why have the wings Unless you're meant to fly? And tell me please, why have a mind If not to question why? And tell me where- Where is it written what it is I'm meant to be, that I can't dare To have the chance to pick the fruit of every tree, Or have my share of every sweet-imagined possibility? Just tell me where, tell me where? If I were only meant to tend the nest, Then why does my imagination sail Across the mountains and the seas, Beyond the make-believe of any fairy tale? Why have the thirst if not to drink the wine? And what a waste to have a taste Of things that can't be mine? And tell me where, where is it written what it is I'm meant to be, that I can't dare- To find the meanings in the mornings that I see, Or have my share of every sweet-imagined possibility? Just tell me where- where is it written? Tell me where- Or if it's written anywhere?