I like the sounds that I'm hearing
I like the way that you're dressed
I feel the fever nearing
put out my cgarette

Cause I don't want to end up alone
And this world has never been my home
We borrow,
be breathe,
we take our departure


There will be days but not often
and seasons and miles in between
when the weight of a single drop of water
will bring you to your knees

And you won't want to end up alone
you'll say oh god this is not my home
and no reply will you be given


The slightest and simplest measure
the soft word or two
can being such a change to the weather
can settle the brimming brew

Oh you all seem to be so alone
you pour your lifeblood into your homes
and flowers
and gravestones
line your roadways


I like this evening air
I like this mountain crest
I wonder if I've got it backwards
I wonder if this isn't best

Oh we are none of us alone
hear these bells,
see these ghosts,
they rise like the morning mist off your garden.

The Soft Word

Waking