It's in the spun of his thoughts In the thoughts of his mind The mind of his soul In the vibes that he sings The voice of the Night It's in the night that he fears In the fear that he holds The shadows he sees It's in the cuddle he miss The rain that he feel The heat that he bears And The morrow that he threads
It's in the scream of the nights In the plights of the owl The ***** on his skin The noise of the cars The images he conjures It's in the things he cannot see In the words he cannot hear The strangers he cannot near It's in the reach of his heart's tears The heart of his life The life of his soul And The innocence where he dwells