När jag inte kan sova, Skriver jag.
As I’m walking I see my feet leave a mark in the snow.
For each step I’m leaving my past on the rode called life.
Not thinking about witch way I will go.
But I know, as I walk I’ll grow.
As I’m walking I see others choose different directions.
Leaving their marks for where they’ve just been seen.
Not thinking about how their treating people their meeting.
Causing them inner bleeding.
You can walk with me and hold my hand.
Carry me when my legs give a hold.
You can rest your head to my shoulder.
I’ll catch you if you slip and fall.
But don’t decide my road and confuse my soul.
Cause on the finish line I’ll die alone.
/Stina
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