If I am like the rest, my name is who I am.
To guide me like a compass - a lost soul in time's sand.
To rise but then to fall - to seek and then to find -
That no one goes by anything in these wandering sands of mine.
To dust we come but more we go
We learn to hold but not to be.
Your vase of water is quite full,
though empty, mine has more you see.
To hold a stone but miss a gem
A common sin we all soon learn
So wander now with open hands,
yet leave what comes for stones they burn.
Now if I go by nothing, then nothing's what I am
If death should wander thusly, then where should go our sand?
A rolling ball of snow, we gather all that's passed.
But sooner or later we hit a wall and know it's not to last.
The paper's blank, we color it
It is no more but paper still
Yet wear the mask and be so bold
And strive to seek all kinds of thrill.
For if we do not color this
Then something surely will be missed
And while not hit, snow melts by day
And who are we to wear our stay?
So warm yourself by fire, take heat in while you can
For all that comes it will be lost as in the fate of man.
We grieve not for the sun, when moon does take its place
So fill this void until the void or else we find much waste.
To guide me like a compass - a lost soul in time's sand.
To rise but then to fall - to seek and then to find -
That no one goes by anything in these wandering sands of mine.
To dust we come but more we go
We learn to hold but not to be.
Your vase of water is quite full,
though empty, mine has more you see.
To hold a stone but miss a gem
A common sin we all soon learn
So wander now with open hands,
yet leave what comes for stones they burn.
Now if I go by nothing, then nothing's what I am
If death should wander thusly, then where should go our sand?
A rolling ball of snow, we gather all that's passed.
But sooner or later we hit a wall and know it's not to last.
The paper's blank, we color it
It is no more but paper still
Yet wear the mask and be so bold
And strive to seek all kinds of thrill.
For if we do not color this
Then something surely will be missed
And while not hit, snow melts by day
And who are we to wear our stay?
So warm yourself by fire, take heat in while you can
For all that comes it will be lost as in the fate of man.
We grieve not for the sun, when moon does take its place
So fill this void until the void or else we find much waste.
