My soul is the color of the ocean as the sun dips its weary head to rest.
My soul is the color of the ocean
as the sun dips its weary head to rest.
I am woman God's creation
a heart of truth beats in my breast.
I am angel, saint, and all the things
which fall in between.
I am the voice which spurs you on
even though I am not seen.
Words they hold a power
and it grows with each passing day.
So I scribe the words upon the paper
so the muse will go away.
The pen is mightier then the sword
or so I have been told
if this be true I can believe
my dreams will not grow old.
I am now and will always be
the sunshine which does creep,
soft winds which billow
and the dreams you find with sleep.
My soul is the color of the ocean
as the sun dips its weary head to rest
I am all those things which you desire
and have always loved the best.
I am the waterfall rushing
across the ageless mountains spires,
I am fantasy, truth, the endless song
of ten thousand choirs.