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(James Keelaghan)

I would I were a robin's song, born upon the wind,
Lilting light through morning bright, soaring from the limb.
And if I were that robin's song, I'd soar without delay,
And be the first thing that you'd hear as you begin your day.

I wish the northern lights were of a fabric apprehended,
That from these earthbound human hands, those lights could be suspended.
I wish the northern lights were mine to hem and sew and weave.
I'd make a cloak for you to wear to keep you from the breeze.

Oh, all of the questions, all of the stars in the sky,
Oh, never the answers, always the wondering why.

I wish my hand could touch the place within your heart that's hidden,
And go to you as if some ghost that, by you, had been bidden,
And though this world is touch and go I cannot but believe,
Of all the things that touch us first, love is the last to leave.
Of all the things that touch us first...

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