No one seems to know. What kind of a trial we've been marching through. Blood, sweat, tears, bitterness and sorrow. Are engraved on our souls. . We would like to see you crawling.
Hard to imagine the blood that's runnin' through the veins. Nothin? but trouble, inside of me liberty in chains. Born to a nation, the children and their innocence.
I'm coming, I'm coming. I'm coming, I'm coming. I'm coming, I'm coming. I'm coming, I'm coming. . Boy there's so many things to give. I've been aware of your charms for so long.
I'm coming home, I'm coming home to your house. I'm coming home, I'm coming home to your house. I'm coming home, I'm coming home to your house. I'm coming home, I'm coming home to your house.
Written by - Mike Pickering, Paul Heard, Heather Small. . My Spring and Summer, Autumn Winter. my all-time wonder man.. This moment in love that we share.
And I looked to the air. But the breeze was not cold. I sought for your hand. To hold unto me. . I lay awakened. The dew on my brow. Come take my life.