| And all my brothers keep them small
|
| Then I’ll get lost in the difference
|
| Between their whisper and the echo of their call
|
| So I am headed for the ocean
|
| To let the sea smoke guide me in
|
| I’d give up my belongings and questions
|
| They only ever taught me, to begin
|
| So I will not turn around
|
| As I step up to the train
|
| But I’ll hear it when you call my name
|
| And I will not be the sound
|
| Of your roof under the rain
|
| But I’ll hear it when you call my name
|
| So I am takin' off my wristwatch
|
| To let the time move how I please
|
| To let my day be guided by the sunlight
|
| Through morning’s mill and twilight’s soft release
|
| So if you wanna get to know me
|
| Follow my smile down into its curves
|
| All these lines are born in sorrows and pleasures
|
| And every man ends up with the face that he deserves
|
| So I will not give you bread
|
| As you reach out from your cage
|
| But I’ll hear it when you call my name
|
| And I will not give applause
|
| As you step off of the stage
|
| But I’ll hear it when you call my name
|
| There’s a river running through the city
|
| Gently reminding me what’s what
|
| Of course you are invited to come with me
|
| But I don’t think that’s really what you want
|
| I think you want a world that will hold you
|
| Through security and gravity and love
|
| And I can’t think of anyone who’d blame you
|
| And I can’t think of how that’d be enough
|
| So I won’t come back around
|
| When you curse the ground you’ve tamed
|
| But I’ll hear it when you call my name
|
| And when you realize, once I’m gone
|
| That I never really came
|
| Oh I’ll hear it when you call my name
|
| And when the burden of the sun
|
| Reveals to you its pain
|
| Oh I’ll hear it when you call my name
|
| And when you realize that you’re wrong
|
| But you still give me all the blame
|
| I’ll hear it when you call my name |