It seems to me this gentle breeze of things to come, of things to be.
Things that change for better or worse - we must live it even when our hearts burst.
For those of us that go away, soon maybe we’ll come and stay and mend our hearts anyway.
To put things back together, smooth out ruffled feathers’, just be still and listen to rivers.
Try and forgive or just understand, what hearts give, what they demand.
Of things to come, of things to be, it seems to me, this gentle breeze.