| Take her cold hands
|
| Place the snowdrops in her palms
|
| And pushing through the wire
|
| I have no choice but to follow you
|
| Feel the weak sunlight on my skin
|
| As I take my spade and place her
|
| Forever by the birch trees
|
| And there was another
|
| But she wasn’t tamed
|
| With the buzz of the flies
|
| With a flick of her mane
|
| And there was another
|
| But she wasn’t you, you, you
|
| Out of all the wild places I love
|
| Out of all the wild places I love
|
| Out of all the wild places I love
|
| You are the most desolate
|
| Faith is scattered like the birds
|
| She would never bend to their
|
| Commandments in life
|
| Her freckled skin couldn’t bear the weight
|
| Take her cold hand by the lake
|
| Place the spade into my amorous arms
|
| As I lie my coat down for her one more time
|
| And there was another
|
| But she wasn’t changed
|
| With the buzz of the flies
|
| With the flick of her mane
|
| And there was another
|
| But we won’t see her again, again, again
|
| Out of all the wild places I love
|
| Out of all the wild places I love
|
| Out of all the wild places I love
|
| Yours is the most desolate |