Healer man

West of the moon,
To the east of the sun,
On the left hand of god,
Is where you’ll see me.
Not a prince, not a scholar,
Just a man who must walk,
Through the pain of tomorrow,
And the loss of his past.

They say that for the healer,
He must always walk alone.
Be the one to find the answers,
For the others that he knows.
He must talk about tomorrow,
And give away his past,
To the ones who find they need it,
He must give away his heart.

You don’t choose the gifts you’re given.
You don’t ask to be the one.
Who must carry all the burdens,
Of the world from which you come.
You don’t ask to hold the misery,
You don’t ask to feel the pain,
But you carry it because it’s yours,
The gift you have to share.

When you find the world too heavy,
And you find that you are lost.
When they ask for more than you have,
And you feel an empty well,
That’s the time you must remember,
That you never are alone.
It’s the time to touch the water,
It’s the time to touch the earth.

West of the moon,
To the east of the sun,
On the left hand of god,
Is where you’ll see me.
Not a prince, not a scholar,
Just a man who must walk,
Through the pain of tomorrow,
And the loss of his past.

Just a man who’s asked to heal,
Other’s broken hearts.

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