I hear the onset of thunder and your love
In the landscape of torn trees and masked memories
In the hills of the whistling grass and

An unsteady soil
An unsteady soul

Waves and wind pull and push
The laughter would rock my posture

Leaves tear from my fingers
A hand to which I'm now deprived

Lightning awakens a sprint in me
That stops when you've blocked me

And the rain pours down
And your love is here at last.