Blessed the Hand

Oh blessed the hand
We have been good
And we understand
That everyday sun can matter to none
If rain is our pride

Oh Mari my god
We have been still
But we have too lied
The Sampsonite dread
The things that were said
The memory that died

I don't want to be a false hope to thee
I want you stay
And see how I know I can turn out to be

Oh let it all go
Something so sweet
For something so slow
The difference is now
The hands of my clothes
The covers and sand
That each of us know
The letter unsent
And the shaking regret
Of having not tried

I don't want to be a false hope to thee
I want you to stay
And see how I know I can turn out to be