Image a month of Sundays, each one a cloudy day.
Imagine the moment the sun came shining through. Imagine that ray of sunshine as you.
Remember your darkest hour with dawn still far away.
Remember the way that you longed for morning's light.
And think of yourself as a candle in the night.
Make believe this is the first day, everything all brand new.
Make believe that the sun is your own lucky star, and then understand the kind of gift you are.
The gift you are, like the very first breath of spring.
The gift you are, all the joy that love can bring,
The gift you are, all of our dreams come true. The gift you are, the gift of you.
You are the promise of all the ages, you are the Prodigal Son,
You are the vision of prophets and sages, you are the only one.
Dream of a bright tomorrow, know that your dream will come true.
Carry your dream in a sparkling crystal jar, then you will know the kind of gift you are.
The gift you are, like the very first breath of spring.
The gift you are, all the joy that love can bring,
The gift you are, all of our dreams come true. The gift you are, the gift of you.
