Ever again the morning creeps across your shoulder,
Through the frosted window pane the sun grows bolder.
Your hair flows down your pillow, you're still sleeping.
I think I'll wake you now and hold you,
Tell you again the things I told you;
Behold, I give you the morning, hm, I give you the day.
Through the waving curtain wall the sun is streaming.
Far behind your flickering eyelids you're still dreaming.
You're dreaming of the good times and you're smiling.
Close beneath our window sill the Earth is humming,
Like an eager Christmas child the day is coming,
Listen to the morning song it's singing.
Like an antique ballroom fan your eyelids flutter,
Sunlight streams across your eyes through open shutter.
Now I think you're ready for the journey.