Miranda Lee Richards Follow

Walk through the hills
The ones so golden, the ones beholdin'
The fondest memories of yesteryear

And I will follow you
You know I won't fear, I'm growing up my dear
And starting to hear my own direction

Finally, there's something I can hold onto that isn't broken
It's in my hand, the smallest grain of sand
Becomes a Hidden Treasure

So write me a letter
One I'll save forever inside these broken drawers
The ones that I find that make me smile

And don't file me away
With things forgotten, things old and rotten
'Cause I was the one you could really talk to

Here in the now

Finally, there's something I can hold onto that isn't broken
It's in my hand, the smallest grain of sand
Becomes a Hidden Treasure

Why are we severe
To the one's we hold dear and closest to our hearts?
Always biting the hands that feed us

When here in the now

Finally, there's something you can hold onto that isn't broken
In your hand, the smallest grain of sand
Becomes a Hidden Treasure