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The book of my life Let me watch by the fire and remember my days And it may be a trick of the firelight But the flickering pages that trouble my sight Is a book I’m afraid to write It’s the book of my days, it’s the book of my life And it’s cut like a fruit on the blade of a knife And it’s all there to see as the section reveals There’s some sorrow in every life If it reads like a puzzle, a wandering maze Then I won’t understand Ã,?’til the end of my days I’m still forced to remember, Remember the words of my life There are promises broken and promises kept Angry words that were spoken, when I should have wept There’s a chapter of secrets, and words to confess If I lose everything that I possess There’s a chapter on loss and a ghost who won’t die There’s a chapter on love where the ink’s never dry There are sentences served in a prison I built out of lies. Though the pages are numbered I can’t see where they lead For the end is a mystery no-one can read In the book of my life There’s a chapter on fathers a chapter on sons There are pages of conflicts that nobody won And the battles you lost and your bitter defeat, There’s a page where we fail to meet There are tales of good fortune that couldn’t be planned There’s a chapter on god that I don’t understand There’s a promise of Heaven and Hell but I’m damned if I see Though the pages are numbered I can’t see where they lead For the end is a mystery no-one can read In the book of my life Now the daylight’s returning And if …

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