Scott Simpson when you were here

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When You Were Here
I heard the river call my name
to the place where we had lain
beneath the distant stars.
And so I sat on rain-soaked grass
thinking of the evening past
and of the words we shared.
It isn't sorrow that I feel
I have no hurts that need to heal,
just a guarded emptiness.
But sunshine follows morning rain
and dries the tear into a stain—
a mottled memory of you.
What will come no one can say
I know the things for which I pray…
If it be your will…
if it be your will…
if it be your will…
Should my hopes and dreams not come true
I know that no is an answer too…
I'll have to wait and see.
What will come no one can say
I know the things for which I pray…
If it be your will…
if it be your will…
if it be your will…
If it be your will…
if it be your will…
if it be your will…
I heard the river call my name
but it didn't sound the same
as when you were here…
when you were here…
when you were here.

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