More often than not,
Have I ever once thought,
I would be in a place such as this.
And at various times,
With the wind through the chimes,
I could love you so much more than this.
Though you knew me the same,
Knew my faults and my gains,
Even the split hairs on my head.
I sure love you my Lord,
As the strings on a chord,
play your sweet tune in my head.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart