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A
Voice hides deep inside of me,
Just wanting to be heard,
It searches for the words to say,
The words now plain; once blurred.
It
feels the pain of the Every Day,
It knows both joy and sorrow,
It sees the beauty of today
And contemplates tomorrow.
At
times the Voice sits quietly
And doesn't say a thing,
At other times it rushes forth
And makes my heart to sing.
I
don't know how it came to be;
It didn't come from me,
Perhaps it came from God above
To make me feel so free.
No
matter how it came to be,
With lines of sweet refrain,
Now that the Voice is here with me,
I'll never be the same.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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