The heart conceals its tones, beneath layers of old wounds. The coating of bitterness fades, time is the healer, our lord. The soul dreams of freedom, wide open, wide open. Now, only a breeze washes it, pure, strong, like a temple, like a temple. Hidden treasure is revealed, in the depths, where it springs. A new song resounds, for those who are wounded. The soul dreams of freedom, wide open, wide open. Now, only a breeze washes it, pure, strong, like a temple, like a temple. A song shines from afar, shy, like dawn. Painters will change the soul, with love, a heart interwoven. The soul dreams of freedom, wide open, wide open. Now, only a breeze washes it, pure, strong, like a temple, like a temple.
