There's a fever from your foolish brow

There's a fever from your foolish brow,
But it's all right, don't fret.
There's an ache and you don't know why.
But don't worry, something will come.

If there is hope, and the world is real
Then how can you believe anything you feel?
It's all right, don't you cry.

And where the darkest hour lays
There will still be one burning light.
It's all right, don't be frightened.

Time is just a marching sea.
Flowers in the snow is all I think of.
Trembling alone in a sunset sky.
This will not last forever
If you don't want it to be.


Birmingham August 1989 - for anyone in pain.