"Traces" as written by and Paul Craddick Doug Ott....
A sense of place, a sense of waste, don't know how this can be
The silence that envelops me whispers something subtly
Exhale and change the atmosphere
They've left a trace of their fear

[Chorus:]
How could something like this have happened in a place like this?
Such mindless violence
The surroundings hold their secrets
How could something like this have happened in a place like this?
A new day is here, but there's a trace of yesterday

Here the trees can speak in voices weak that suggest a tale of pain
Of tears shed in the pouring rain
But at that they halt their sad refrain
Look up at the vault of starts and the calming harvest moon
A witness to the unspeakable, and easily repeatable
Cry out to change the atmosphere
Some kind of presence is here

[Chorus]

Red wine spilled on the carpet; we can clean it up
Tracks left on the beach that the tides wash away
Footprints dug deep in the snow; they'll melt away
But what can wash the stain away from this place?
A new day is here
There are traces of yesterday
This place is stained; what will it take to wash them away?


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"Traces" as written by Paul Craddick Doug Ott

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