Guiding Light

Well the air is cold,
and yonder lies my sleeping soul,
by the branches broke like bones,
this weakened tree no longer holds

but the night is still,
and I have not yet lost my will,
and so I will keep on moving ’till,
’till I find my way home.

When I need to get home,
you’re my guiding light,
you’re my guiding light.

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