• Shadows line the walls of the room
    A clock keeps time, aching moon
    Lights are low, I turn the page
    The walls whisper their age

    Oh, where will we travel tonight, my dearest love
    Oh how I long to enter your world
    Will your arms take me afar 
    To distant lands where we will
    Warm ourselves on hot sands.

    Stories capture other times
    And I read between the lines

    Just like sand inside my shoe 
    I feel you slipping inside
    And I will carry you far


    Album | Pages of Sand
    Artist | Kara Johnstad