The voices of birds, still are singing:
The beauty of home is bringing
Me to a new point of view.
I can see everything clear as glass
As if I'd never seen it before
I never recognized what I had
Until I had to run and open that door
I see you again and I rejoice;
So glad to find you here.
I'm glad just to hear your voice.
All of it brings me to tears.
I must recollect the chapters that I have wrote
Though painful memories lie within.
But it is so that you have a new hope
And I will tell the tale again.