With my hand stretched to the sky I can’not touch the stars so high,

Nor the clouds, a falling star, or the sun going down.

The wind, I can’not grab hold, a bird in flight,

A dream in the night, never a yesterday.

Beyond my reach is not my dreams,

It is not that which i pray for.

The hand of god I can’not touch, in my heart I can surely take hold,

It is not hope, nor faith, it is not a tomorrow.

Beyond my reach are many things,

Beyond my reach is not everything.

Keith Garrett