What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.
G.E. Woodberry
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Hear You Me
There's no one in town I know.
You gave us some place to go.
I never said thank you for that.
I thought I might get one more chance.
What would you think of me now
So lucky, So strong, So proud?
I never said thank you for that,
Now I'll never have a chance.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads,
The sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
So what would you think of me now
So lucky, So strong, So proud?
I never said thank you for that.
Now I'll never have a chance.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads,
The sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
May angels lead you in.
May angels lead you in.
And if you were with me tonight.
I'd sing to you just one more time.
A song for a heart so big,
God wouldn't let it live.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads,
The sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads,
The sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
May angels lead you in.