Teksty: Debra Davis. Angels In The Attic. Childhood.

As fleeting as the scent of violets
Charming as a lover?s gaze
Penetrating as the eye of sun that stares the night to day
A fruit from my mother?s garden
A wink from my father?s eye
Tucked under weedy passages that keep me digging for why
Oh my childhood
The memories I keep
The ones that lose me sleep
Like something burning in the distance
Oh my childhood
Is like a long lost friend
Like a feather in the wind
Keeps coming home again
A whisper underneath the covers
A tune that never leaves my head
Voices from the other room that comfort me inside my bed
A light underneath the doorway
An old shoe that still fits
The genie of my soul that always offers one more wish
Oh my childhood
The memories I keep
The ones that lose me sleep
Like something burning in the distance
Oh my childhood
Is like a long lost friend
Like a feather in the wind
Keeps coming home again
Sometimes she knocks and I don?t answer
Sometimes she laughs and I don?t smile
I may be older now but I?m not wiser
To refuse this child
As fleeting as the scent of violets
Charming as a lover?s gaze
Penetrating as the eye of sun that stares the night to day
A fruit from my mother?s garden
A wink from my father?s eye
The power and the innocence that rock me through the night
Oh my childhood
The memories I keep
The ones that lose me sleep
Like something burning in the distance
Oh my childhood
Is like a long lost friend
Like a feather in the wind
Keeps coming home again