Your voice my church bells,
Down falls my steeple.

I listened to your voice as I drifted off to sleep
And when I closed my eyes; i pray the lord, Your soul to keep.

Because you were always strong and you are always right,
And whenever I got darker, you were always light.

But it's getting kind of cold here, in the shadow of your sun,
And when I ask to hear your voice, it seems that you fall dumb.

All tears ran dry and rivers flood, when you had to go,
But you were never really here, more of a tidal ebb and flow.