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Oh, I have lived for ages I'm a thousand turns of tides |
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I'm a thousand wakes of springtime and thousand infant cries |
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Oh, a thousand infant cries |
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I got sixteen hundred tigers now tied to silver strings |
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When they plowed in the pastures, oh the mighty heart will sing |
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Oh, the mighty heart will sing |
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But I'll always be blamed for the sun going down with a sigh |
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But I'm the light in the middle of every man's fog |
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I bend my arrows now in circles and I shoot around the hill |
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If I don't get you in the morning, by the evening I sure will |
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By the evening I sure will |
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Because I'm the fire on the mountain you have lit up in your dream |
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But also water on the fountain you could send myself on me |
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You could send myself on me |
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Because I'll always be blamed for the sun going down with a sigh |
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But I'm the light in the middle of every man's fog |
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And no I never meant to say these words but yes you ought to know |
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That the dark in what I've always been, it will not ever go |
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No it will not ever go |
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And for so I lived a thousand years, a thousand turns of tides |
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Just a thousand leaves in autumn and a thousand ways to try |
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Oh, a thousand |
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It's just a thousand ways to try |
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Ways to try |
