You pave a way through thick, stale air, shower a maiden rain. and in this cascade of memories you wonder what is a day? Like this feels, nothing ever will. Life reveals, kicks in and heals me for a day. So I guess I paved my way, never questioning means nor meaning and in this cascade of memories, aching for significance, what is a day? When doubt creeps to the surface, with sunlight brushed away, then, in these lonely moments, tell me, what is a day? Like this feels, nothing ever will. Life reveals, kicks in and heals me for a day. Like this feels (without a word or whisper, ) nothing ever will. Life reveals (without a what or why.) He walks in and heals me for a day.