under this gray sky
I wrote you about my paradise
the tip of a spoon with some dough
for a cake

since, even in the darkest place
there is water and a table
and an apron and a pitcher
and a winter to be hugged
to be loved and warmed up

what else should I sing?
about that time when I looked from outside
and dreamed about being a clod of clay just before becoming a......
and then I woke up inside,
I was that child who licked the spoon
dreaming about the cake

nothing else I remember, nothing else I need
let me sit here and listen
to the wind that as a womb
knows my name

nothing else I remember, nothing else I need
under this gray sky
let me sit here and listen
to the wind that as a womb
knows my name

knows my name