Lyrics
The years went by
and still we tried
turning over all of the pages . . .
like we could write, something more bright
even though every hope had faded.
A bitter wind blows
across the path we chose;
a weak and wilted rose,
neath broken glass and stone,
in the place we lived,
In the bed we slept,
where I sleep alone.
From sweet dreams
to a bed of thorns;
from calm waters
to a raging storm.
Pieces of you . . .
things we used to do . . .
werent we such a handsome pair.
There was time or two,
and more times than you knew,
I could have danced with you upon the air.
Now a bitter wind blows
across the path we chose;
A weak and wilted rose,
neath broken glass and stone,
in the place we lived,
In the bed we slept,
where I sleep alone.
From sweet dreams
to a bed of thorns;
from calm waters
to a raging storm.
I studied you that last time,
your expression, every laugh line
that I used to think would never fade away.
And stuck between those naked walls,
in that awkward moment I recall,
I knew that I could never make you stay.
From sweet dreams
to a bed of thorns;
from calm waters
to a raging storm.
From calm waters . . .
