Its not your fould,
Just when you think your so close,
it slips wright out of your fingers,
like a wilting rose.
a cloud that covers the sun
thats makes a world,
where you can hide and run
slipping wright out of your fingers.
they looked like big strong hands
to hold you,
and help you stand
you try to blow the cloud away,
and climb over the highest wall
how can you stay,
so close, and at the same time such a long way.
you're like the gold,
at the and of the rainbow,
its not your fould.
they looked like big strong hands
to hold you,
and help you stand,