I woke up this morning in a place where dreamers go
A darkness hung my spirit like a willow
The sun was not yet rising but the day was to begin
And not to my surprise the rain was pouring

But it seemed to be talkin' on my windows pane
Tellin' me the Son knows my name

So I went out a-walkin to hear the morning sing
I walked the woods I listened to it growing
I found myself a-thinkin, The Son knows everything
Then I realized my pain was showing

But then in my confession, I was where I belong
It's awful hard to tell yourself that you're wrong . .

© Vini Contreas