software solutions for christian media
Album: Scrapbook of Sorts
The way that you looked in the late winter sun
With your fingers in mine and the snow falling down
My heart skipped a beat and I started to pray
A thing I could not say
A word that you spoke over dinner one night
You looked in my soul and started to cry
Your words and your tears made my fear melt away
A thing I could not say
I store up these things, a scrapbook of sorts
The moments you bring me to heaven's door
'Cause people like me find it hard to speak
The things they cannot say
The compassion I've seen in your face every time
You see a heart break and read someone's mind
You give 'til the wound requires no more aid
A thing I could not say
I store up these things, a scrapbook of sorts
The moments you bring me to heaven's door
'Cause people like me find it hard to speak
The things they cannot say
The way that you love me time and again
They way you've become my truest of friends
I may never speak this or even show clear
But I am taking note, my dear
Of the things I cannot say
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