Falling the summer’s wet skies are Been craving them we have Led and silver mornings of ours are Been tasted on our tongues they have
Touching from distance Virgin soft cure Locked with no resistance And oblivion to endure
Steppes of thoughts Glide down the air Yours is thread of living That’s nothing to compare
Rising the evening’s misty eyes are Have been taking them we all Ink and tender nights of ours are Have been drawing them we both
Trees are swaying core by core Are flowing the autumn children unborn yet Moors and woods are seeping through our lore What’s done and what to become with never known regret
Touching from distance (Your) voice’s soft cure Disclosed with no resistance And harsh note to endure
Pure strings of thoughts Slide up the air Yours is gift of loving That’s never to despair