Sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the night.
Sometimes when I wake up, and I'm holding you tight.
The touch of your fingertips, the touch of your hair.
The warmth of your tender lips, showing you care.
And it serves to remind me, in the midst of despair.
The joy that becomes our gift, hearts open to share.
The glow of a sunrise, the light that it brings.
The smell of the flowers, which bloom in the Spring.
The strength of a river, as it flows to the sea.
Changing directions, it's wild and it's free.
And it serves to remind me, in the midst of despair.
The joy that becomes our gift, hearts open to share.
And our love is like a river, in its depth and clarity.
Sometimes spilling over rapids, as it carries you and me.