There was no sound but the rhythm of your breathing,
No sound at all on that lonely night.
And never in my life have I believed it more than then,
That people live again,
But when I die, let it be in your arms.
There were no words, just a silent understanding,
No words could say what we always knew,
And I don't want to go, but I believe that when I do,
I will be with you,
And when I die, let it be in your arms.
I was there when the cold wind cut you like a knife
As you walked with me on the high hills of my life.
There was no sound but the rhythm of your breathing,
No sound at all on that lonely night.
And never in my life have I believed it more than then,
That people live again,
But when I die, let it be in your arms.
When I die, let it be in your arms.
Writer(s): Mike Batt
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