The breeze in my face
The wind in my hair
The sand through my feet
The pulse of my heart.

I feel these things on my morning run
As I slowly begin my day.
As I begin mine, she ends hers,
As I end mine, his has begun.

The breeze in my face
The wind in my hair
The sand through my feet
The pulse of my heart.

Little do we know that it is true,
This world of ours is connected.
My morning run is your midnight jog
My midnightjog your faithful run.

The breeze in my face
The wind in my hair
The sand through my feet
The pulse of my heart.

Each day is a wonderful journey,
A journey we cannot evade
Each day has a bump, a trip or fall
But somehow we never give up.

The breeze in my face
The wind in my hair
The sand through my feet
The pulse of my heart.

If the odd bump simply disappeared,
The road where we run become smooth,
Maybe complaints would be less common,
Or maybe our run would be dull.

The breeze in my face
The wind in my hair
The sand through my feet
The pulse of my heart.

We can learn to run our lives this way,
And try to never trip or fall,
Or, when we fall and trip and stumble,
Learn it's all part of our morning run.

The breeze in my face
The wind in my hair
The sand through my feet
The pulse of my heart.