Sweet voices calling wild,
Echoing around this child
Sweet Faith, I'll be joining you,
But when my story's over.
Do do...
Small secrets in the wind,
Blowing till the end begins.
Oh my children stand by me
Till my story's over.
Do do...
If I were you and you were me,
Those voices they would cease to be.
They won't be free to torment me again.
But in my bed again last night,
Those voices spoke of wrong and right.
They spoke of darkness and of light.
They spoke of weakness and of might.
They spoke of people in the snow
And distant places long ago.
The spoke of fire and falling rain,
Of health and wealth and death and pain.
Na, na...
Sweet voices calling wild,
Echoing around this child.
Sweet Faith, I'll be joining you,
When my story's over.
If I were you and you were me,
Those voices they would cease to be.
They won't be free to torment me again.
But in my bed again last night
Those voices spoke of wrong and right.
They spoke of darkness and of light.
They spoke of weakness and of might.
They spoke of people in the snow
And distant places long ago.
They spoke of fire and falling rain,
Of health and wealth and death and pain.
They spoke of people in the snow
(la la la)
And distant places long ago.
They spoke of fire and falling rain,
Of health and wealth and death and pain.
La la la...
(la la la...)
Writer(s): Barry Alan Gibb, Robin Hugh Gibb, Maurice Ernest Gibb
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