Clouds Of The Morning

from by Finder's Field

/

lyrics

We make our plans and steady our hands
To hold the things we’ve made
We’re so impressed that we forget
To number our days
The shadows are shifting
Like melodies drifting
Through grass that will wither and fade
Oh death
With our last breath what will we say

He said He’s coming
Right where He left off
Just as He stepped out of the tomb
Anthems of angels
Clouds of the morning
Without any warning

He’s coming soon
He’s coming soon

Can’t quite remember where we left off
As you stepped off of the plane
It’s always little things that keep changing
While the big things stay the same

credits

from Halfway Home, released November 4, 2014

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Finder's Field Charlotte, North Carolina

Finder's Field is Acoustic/Pop/Rock from singer/songwriter Matt Stewart. New album released Nov. 4, 2014.

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