It's another Friday, breathing in the air
Light and shadow are playing catch again
The table is set, childhood pictures on the wall
White convoys coming back from the synagogue
And this smell that scratches my heart
Creeps up creeps up and opens doors
To a small joy, to that same old song
That passes in our family for generations
Little gifts
Someone sent me little gifts
Fragments of intention, circles of faith
Little gifts
Like the power to accept what is and what isn't
What more can you ask for?
It's another Friday, balcony and a newspaper
The sun, like the worries, slowly disappears
Simple melodies get in through the window
And no storm will hide the silence here
Little gifts
Someone sent me little gifts
Fragments of intention, circles of faith
Little gifts
Like the power to accept what is and what isn't
What more can you ask for?
*For You chose us
And sanctified us
Blessed are You, Adonai
Sanctifier of the Shabbat
And this smell that burns my heart
Creeps up creeps up and opens doors
To a small joy, to that same old song
That passes in our family for generations
Little gifts
Someone sent me little gifts
Fragments of intention, circles of faith
Little gifts
Someone sent me little gifts
Like the power to accept what is and what isn't
What more can you ask for?
Little gifts