Listening to: The Byrds - Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is a Season); The Pretenders - Angel Of The Morning

From the heights of heaven, to the depths of uttermost despair... life has a twisted sense of humour sometimes. I have cried till I can cry no more... no more tears... no more laughter... foolish mortals we.

But I remain... I continue to hope... and pray... and cry out in the darkness... so I send again... a prayer... into the eternal void... for an everlasting love...

- - - - -
There'll be no strings to bind your hands
not if my love can't bind your heart.
And there's no need to take a stand
for it was I who chose to start.
I see no need to take me home,
I'm old enough to face the dawn.

Just call me angel of the morning - Angel
just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby.
Just call me angel of the morning - Angel
then slowly turn away from me.

Maybe the sun's light will be dim
and it won't matter anyhow.
If morning's echo says we've sinned,
well, it was what I wanted now.
And if we're the victims of the night,
I won't be blinded by light.

Just call me angel of the morning - Angel
just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby.
Just call me angel of the morning - Angel
then slowly turn away,
I won't beg you to stay with me
through the tears of the day,
of the years, baby baby baby.
Just call me angel of the morning - Angel
just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby.