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On the hills behind the Dead Sea |
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There is a wonder |
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You were my love from the Holy City |
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And you were gonna take me there |
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But I had a change of heart |
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Now, years later |
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That wonder has become a symbol |
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A promise of a world that is safe |
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Because it isn't real |
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It is its own dream |
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Like a destination without the journey |
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Or like a prize without the fight |
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It seems that this red rose rock |
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That I only know from pictures |
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Has been carved out of pure love |
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That I only know from books |
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And it outlives us |
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There in the valley |
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Being its own timeless dream |
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Red and rose |
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Sometimes the truth is mild and simple |
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Not a flood or even a big wave, just a ripple |
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So you stir it up |
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Cause for some reason |
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You want it to wash over you |
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Cause the truth is |
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The memory of you fades |
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And the wonder, it's still there |
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Untouched, unseen |
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And stark as ever |
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Oh Stephany |
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Why do we always need a mystery |
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Why can't we see a little history |
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Before it's much too late |
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Oh Stephany |
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I'm only letting this wash over me |
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Before you fade away |
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Oh Stephany |
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Why can't we see a little history |
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Before it's much too late |
