Ron Sexsmith. Long Player Late Bloomer. Miracles. Zeneszám

There are miracles before our very eyes
In reality's disguise
Our shadow below us and the stars up above
It's a miracle my love, miracle my love

There are miracles appearing in broad daylight
To a cynical world so blind
With both of us knowing there's so much to dream of
It's a miracle my love

How just a song appears in the night
And what was wrong seems to be right
There seems to be life and all that was heavy
Seems to be light

It's a miracle here in this hand I hold
Here in this band of gold how even the silence
Seems to say more than enough
It's a miracle my love, miracle my love