The Fire That Burns

Yet, as each day goes by, it's hard to watch them go without you nearby, but I promise to keep your spirit going and flying high, and when I sprint into the clear sky, I guess before I die, leaving this side I want to understand those feelings inside. I don't think my family would understand the fire that burns in that distant land with rosy fingers of another frosty morning Snowflakes are beautiful and adoring Now loon in the English countryside Where shadows paint a portrait And I am alone in the room Listening to a warbling tune