"We'll cross that bridge when we skim beneath it."

I find myself waiting on your sweet advice
from down here somewhere south of paradise
and won't it be so very nice
to finally know where I stand

I sit here in the afternoons
trying to strum or finger pick a better tune
and it won't come no not too soon
I'll finally know who I am

I'm still here, hanging on your prayers
lost to the world, lost to my cares
troubled by what I thought I'd dare
I see myself in what I began
(c) 2013 - Robin Seaver