Love is always bestowed as a gift – freely, willingly and without expectation. We don’t love to be loved; we love to love.
Leo Buscaglia
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To France
Taking on water,
Sailing a restless sea
From a memory,
A fantasy.
The wind carries
Into white water,
Far from the islands.
Don't you know you're
Never going to get to France.
Mary, Queen of Chance, will they find you?
Never going to get to France.
Could a new romance ever bind you?
Walking on foreign ground,
Like a shadow,
Roaming in far off
Territory.
Over your shoulder,
Stories unfold, you're
Searching for sanctuary.
You know you're
Walking on foreign ground,
Like a shadow,
Roaming in far off
Territory.
Over your shoulder,
Stories unfold, you're
Searching for sanctuary.
You know you're
I see a picture
By the lamp's flicker.
Isn't it strange how
Dreams fade and shimmer?
Walking on foreign ground,
Like a shadow,
Roaming in far off
Territory.
Over your shoulder,
Stories unfold, you're
Searching for sanctuary.
Y know you're
I see a picture
By the lamp's flicker.
Isn't it strange how
Dreams fade and shimmer?
Walking on foreign ground,
Like a shadow,
Roaming in far off
Territory.
Over your shoulder,
Stories unfold, you're
Searching for sanctuary.
You know you're
Never going to get to France.
Never going to....
Never going to get to France.
Never going to....
Never going to get to France.
Never going to....