| Far from the ridges and rivers we crossed
|
| So in our wandering we’re lost
|
| Far from the shores, the mountains and hills
|
| Nothing but dust moving still
|
| Try to forget the leaves and the shade
|
| Focus instead on the time we made
|
| Now the horizon is nothing but sand
|
| So we have reached the deserted land
|
| But the grain is so fine
|
| In your teeth in your time
|
| But the grain is precise
|
| In your veins, in your eyes
|
| Nought but the sand and the night-fallen stars
|
| Only the cold desert moon
|
| Sound of your voice is so shocking and strange
|
| Suddenly so out of tune
|
| Oh how the sound of our hearts beating down
|
| The gusting and howling will drown
|
| There is no shade but the shadow of you
|
| Lost in the dust of the dunes
|
| But the grain is so fine
|
| In your teeth in your time
|
| But the grain is so nice
|
| In the veins of your eyes
|
| But the grain in the breeze
|
| Is like fire in the trees
|
| But the grain is precise
|
| In the veins of your eyes |