Millions of miles from home In the darkness before the dawn In the swirling of this storm When I'm rolling with the thunder But bleed from thorns Leave a light, a light on.
Millions of miles from home In the darkness before the dawn In the swirling of this storm When I'm rolling with the thunder But bleed from thorns Leave a light, a light on.
The grand in the hotel rings with broken tunes; the guests frown; the concierge winces. But the blue-hatted boy is happy and braver than they. — TheMythMaster