| I’m going to find me a dying river
|
| And strike a deal with her I’ll say
|
| «I'll fold you in two and I’ll carry you away
|
| To a place where your headwaters will flow
|
| Clean through to your mouth»
|
| In return I’ll request a small sanctuary
|
| By her banks where we will live
|
| With our small family
|
| She will water our garden
|
| And clean the dirt from our skin
|
| While the word clamours at our door
|
| We will dance and not let them in
|
| And if one day we wake up to a bed dry as a bone
|
| Find our river stolen, find our sanctuary gone
|
| We will stand and take stock and be grateful
|
| For what we’ve not lost
|
| We will pack up our bags, pack our small family
|
| Head across the valley to where the aspen trees
|
| Shiver as they ascend-
|
| The green hills rising to blue
|
| At the edge of the shopping we will turn
|
| And bid fond ädieu"
|
| All that I know to be true
|
| Is the touch of your hand on my skin
|
| One look from you can so easily soothe
|
| All this turmoil within
|
| As we dance cheek to cheek
|
| With our feet so completely
|
| Locked in a time all our own
|
| I stop to speak
|
| But you gently keep me
|
| Moving in time to the song
|
| And in a voice that is sloppy with gin
|
| You say, «let the world spin»
|
| I’m going to find me a dying river
|
| And strike a deal with her I’ll say
|
| Ï'll fold you in two and I’ll carry you away
|
| To place where your headwaters will flow
|
| Clean through to your mouth"
|
| In return I’ll request a small sanctuary
|
| By her banks where we will live
|
| With our small family
|
| She will water our garden
|
| And clean the dirt from our skin
|
| While the world clamours at our door
|
| We will dance and not let them in |