Ok, just listen to this one all the way through, and remember what you are made of.
You are the blood flowing through my fingers
all through the soil and up in those trees
You are electricity, and you're light
You are sound itself, and you are flight
You are the blood that I may see you, that I may see you
You are the blood in me
You are the earth on which I travel, on which I travel
You are the earth under my feet
That I may travel that I may travel with you
You are the earth on which I write the circumstances
You say what you want from me
You are the solitude that goes against me, that goes against me
You are the choir in which I dream, in which I sleep, in which I wander
No comments:
Post a Comment