Ever again the morning creeps across your shoulders.    Through he frosted window pane the sun grows bolder.    Your hair flows down your pillow, you're still sleeping.       I think I'll wake you now and hold you,    Tell you again the things I've told you.    Behold I give you the morning,    I give you the day.       Through the waving curtain wall the sun comes streaming.    Far behind your flickering eyelids, you're still dreaming.    You're dreaming of the good times, and you're smiling.       I think I'll wake you now and hold you,    Tell you again the things I've told you.    Behold I give you the morning,    I give you the day.       Close beneath the window cill the earth is humming.    Like an eager Christmas child, the day is coming.    Listen to the morning's song, it's singing.       I think I'll wake you now and hold you,    Tell you again the things I've told you.    Behold I give you the morning,    I give you the day.       Like an antique ballroom fan your eyelids flutter.    Sunlight streams across your eyes, trough open shutters.    Now I think you're ready for the journey.       I think I'll wake you now and hold you,    Tell you again the things I've told you.    Behold I give you the morning,    I give you the day.