Hope
F C Em Am Warm is the weather beating down on us When searching for shade at the edge of the glade What you hope to find, what you will not see, Is a path at the edge of insanity Suddenly your taken no relation to me The brighter it gets the more i can see The rope will not bind when we’re lost at sea cause the cuts that you make will set me free I will not jump or fall away cleaver you have no over over me A work in progress (C)2017 J. Canales WRITTEN APR 5, 2017 EDITED APR 5, 2017