On patience
With every passing day,
I find me longing harder;
Fearing what you might say,
Yet wishing for an answer.
I won’t ask you to stay—
Again, I can’t be louder;
If it’s a game you play,
I’ll play along with pleasure.
With every passing day,
I find me longing harder;
Fearing what you might say,
Yet wishing for an answer.
I won’t ask you to stay—
Again, I can’t be louder;
If it’s a game you play,
I’ll play along with pleasure.