Eighteen miles
at the end of the day.
How can I make my way,
without the light of day.
Eighteen miles
how far have I already come.
My life has just begun.
The darkness of night.
The absence of light.
The rain pounding down.
It drown's out the sound.
My voice speaks to you,
like the language of lovers' do.
Lettering the obvious
to reveal the heart.
You're ears always listen
to the whole - not the part.
I wonder if I can make the trip?
Take the trip and trust you.
To start what I finish
and finish what I start.
TLE 2004"
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