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A grey day in February |
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Some flecks of white, but mostly brown |
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Purple surprises riding in on a nerve |
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Begins to excite you before it settles down |
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It's after the knives and the sutures and needles |
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I'm left with an arrow that points at my heart |
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I call it the seat of my sentimental sorrow |
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Gone seems to be one of the sum of my parts |
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And the night is cold |
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As the coldest nights are |
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There's a wise woman |
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She comes from an evening star |
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She says: Look for the signs |
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You won't have to look far |
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Lead with your spirit and follow |
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Follow your scar |
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A man I knew once said he wanted to see me |
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I said I'd been sick but was on the mend |
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I told him a few of the overall details |
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He said: That's too bad |
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And he's never called me again |
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What a gift in disguise that poor little puppy |
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So scared of misfortune and always on guard |
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A big man will love you |
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Even more when you're hurtin' |
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And a really big man |
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Loves a really good scar |
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Cause the dawn breaks |
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And it's breaking your heart |
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There's a wise woman |
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She sits at the end of the bar |
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She says: Look for the signs |
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You won't have to look far |
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Lead with your spirit and follow |
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Follow your scar |
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A grey day in February |
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Some flecks of white, but mostly brown |
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The world has tilted but |
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The world has expanded |
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And the world has turned |
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My world upside down |
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Cause the night is warm and all full of stars |
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There's a wise woman |
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She's moved right into my heart |
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She says: Look for the signs |
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You won't have to look far |
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Lead with your spirit and follow |
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Follow |
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Follow your scar |
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[English translation of Gaelic:] |
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Run with the red deer |
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And sing with the wind |
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The magic lasts |
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And meaning will follow |
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The scar is God given |
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As a sign for your life |
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Strength from your ancestors |
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And through your own mouth |
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Strength from memory |
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Like a tree on the wind |
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Show me your scar |
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And I will make it better |
