David Hunt - Service | Текст песни

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• David Hunt
• Service

I feel the sun on the windowpane
And now I know that I'm living
Lights went out on the boats in the bay
Just before the sun was risen
So friday morning has come again
And oh, what a gift I've been given
All my time is my own today
And what else could I have chosen
But to give it to you

'Cause I can't give away what isn't mine
And all that I have is my life and my time
And the feel of a hometown where I landed
They're slipping away, I'll be empty handed
So while I can call these things my own
I'm going to give them to you

I hold the earth in the palm of my hand
So say the wise and the sages
I've got nothing, but I'm working God's land
I've got the wealth of the ages
I wear the clothing of the common man
Doing the work of the angels
Time flies like fine grains of sand
My life is a turn of the pages
And I'll give it to you

"Soon will our handful of days ... be gone,
and we shall pass empty-handed
into the hollow that is dug for those who speak no more."
It's only my life 'til it's ended
And it's only what love demanded
To give it to you

It's like giving away what isn't mine
Can I really claim my life and my time
Or even the hometown where I landed
They're slipping away, I'll be empty handed
So while I can call these things my own
I'm going to give them to you
And if I can call these things my own
I've got to give them to you
Can I really call these things my own

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