Once again I'm hiding in backwaters Running this way and that Trying so very hard to please (Beware of hidden snares) Rushing to bite the hand that feeds
Running like a horse between the trees The ground beneath my feet Gives me something to hold on to With the reins around my heart Guided by hands that
Shadows form knights and pawns Upon the squares Blood is drawn up from the well Secret signs brought the crimes Right to your door An innocent guilty
I hear your voice Way down inside A whispering sea Of towering trees But no reply A silence so rare And more than I can stand Sweeps like a flood Through
Standing firm on this stony ground The wind blows hard Pulls these clothes around I harbour all the same worries as most The temptations to leave or to
With a burning candle A book of holy things They'll throw you up against the wall Bind your hands with string Caught in this sudden shower Our host of
The wounds on your hands never seem to heal I thought all I needed was to believe Here am I, a lifetime away from you The blood of Christ, or the beat
The sun shines high above The sounds of laghter The birds swoop down upon The crosses of old grey churches We say that we're in love While secretly wishing
I see your eyes light up like fire It's medicine to me But as the hunted live their lifes You're keeping out of reach So I keep running, falling Till
He knows well his wicked ways A course of bitterness A grudge held from his childhood days As if life had loved him less Reading down his list of names
Out upon the open fields The rain is pouring down We're pulling up the sheets again Against the passing tides of love Every doubt that holds you here
In dresses white, all set for sail A little girl dreams of taking the veil In dresses white, all set for sail A little girl dreams of taking the veil
If heaven watches over me Sowing seeds back in the soil With eyes that see, hands that feel Why am I the last to know? Sheltered lives spent partially
The lights of the ashes smoulder through hills and vales Nostalgia burns in the hearts of the strongest Picasso is painting the ships in the harbour The
Voices heard in fields of green Their joy their calm and luxury Are lost within the wanderings of my mind I'm cutting branches from the trees Shaped by
I recognise no method of living that I know I see only the basic materials I may use If you ask me, I may tell you It's been this way for years I play
On the banks of a sunset beach Messages scratched in sand Beneath a roaming home of stars Young boys try their hand A spanish harbouring of sorts In Catalonian
"Climb the stairs And step into my dreamhouse" These words are yours, Maria The waters warm (Hold me) The table bare (Till the worst is past) Until the
