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Far from the ridges and rivers we crossed |
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So in our wandering we're lost |
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Far from the shores, the mountains and hills |
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Nothing but dust moving still |
|
Try to forget the leaves and the shade |
|
Focus instead on the time we made |
|
Now the horizon is nothing but sand |
|
So we have reached the deserted land |
|
But the grain is so fine |
|
In your teeth in your time |
|
But the grain is precise |
|
In your veins, in your eyes |
|
Nought but the sand and the night-fallen stars |
|
Only the cold desert moon |
|
Sound of your voice is so shocking and strange |
|
Suddenly so out of tune |
|
Oh how the sound of our hearts beating down |
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The gusting and howling will drown |
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There is no shade but the shadow of you |
|
Lost in the dust of the dunes |
|
But the grain is so fine |
|
In your teeth in your time |
|
But the grain is so nice |
|
In the veins of your eyes |
|
But the grain in the breeze |
|
Is like fire in the trees |
|
But the grain is precise |
|
In the veins of your eyes |
