Help me to seek you
in the hour of midnight,
when the fear arises
that my stagecoach
will quickly turn into a p u m p k i n,
and my beauty
Help me to see
that your love perfected
casts light upon every shadow of doubt.
That the same love that drew me,
will keep me.
That if you are near,
the beauty will never fade;
it will only grow to become
For in the moments that lead closer
to the ticking of midnight
my hands begin to s h a k e
as the hands of time press forward...
If only my soul would be at rest.
Who can quiet the anxious heart,
I am reminded.
Your hand, it holds the minute hand.
For it is not the clock that houses my fate -
It is you.
Stepping into that glass slipper,
But the truth is:
and always did.
You were only just waiting for me
to try it on.