When my hair moves

Not much of that not much

what is left are few of those memories and the rest

are shadows of the past that i choose to forget

Not much of that not much

what i see is the little light contiues to be

my guide, my lead, my bless and what i will be

Not much of that not much

few little bundles of hair falling on my eye

move with the wind and move with the sigh

hidden inside my bones on remmeberance day