Who can ever replace the memory of the dead?
Who could ever dream upon a sunset and wish the light was not brighter?
Who could tell that young girl's ghost that her death means something because she wrote about goodness and believed in the power of a diary?
Dear God,
Father,
Savior,
Messiah,
Life is the most precious jewel upon the world.
We live and die and prove magnificent by our breath.
In an attic of eight people owning nothing but calloused stars and fading hope, there was a young girl who knew the face of beauty and died in the dirt of disease.
What does it mean to live anyway?
I can't look at things hard enough to enjoy it all.
But I can dream can't I?
What is the dream amidst the ruin?
And what is the prize inside the ashes?
Inside the book.
Inside the attic.
Inside the world.
Inside the dangerous blackend battleground of the heart.
If that young girl knew that answer, does that mean I have a chance?
Dear God I hope so.
And if I see the magic can I make a wish upon the yellow star and turn back the dial?
Who could ever dream upon a sunset and wish the light was not brighter?
Who could tell that young girl's ghost that her death means something because she wrote about goodness and believed in the power of a diary?
Dear God,
Father,
Savior,
Messiah,
Life is the most precious jewel upon the world.
We live and die and prove magnificent by our breath.
In an attic of eight people owning nothing but calloused stars and fading hope, there was a young girl who knew the face of beauty and died in the dirt of disease.
What does it mean to live anyway?
I can't look at things hard enough to enjoy it all.
But I can dream can't I?
What is the dream amidst the ruin?
And what is the prize inside the ashes?
Inside the book.
Inside the attic.
Inside the world.
Inside the dangerous blackend battleground of the heart.
If that young girl knew that answer, does that mean I have a chance?
Dear God I hope so.
And if I see the magic can I make a wish upon the yellow star and turn back the dial?
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