Hold On
WILLIAM RICHARD II FITZSIMMONS
We were proud and young
A broken fool with lover's smile
She, the risen sea
Her, the shallow breath I breathe
Like a dog I run
She, the rabbit chased in one
Through a field of trees
Lost away was lost on me
Should I hold on
Should I hold on
Summer's ample call
She, the rising, both will fall
To the cold return
And no longer for her I burn
Should I hold on
Should I hold on
Should I hold on