Onward, to the Garden
I saw the rush of a bumblebee's wings
stir up the ashes of a fallen city.
The exodus clear from the marks on the floor,
a lily poked out his head to show his world restored.
Through the wilderness
I passed to see the cattle graze on every grass.
I looked to the river and saw it complete,
the grizzly bear cub lie down with the calf.
Yours was everything I could and could not see…
Yours was everything I could and could not see…
Yours was everything I could and could not see…
Yours was everything I could and could not see…
Yours was everything, yours was everything, was everything…
Yours was everything, yours was everything, everything...
Yours was everything…
the field white for harvest, the wind, the past, the present,
the first time I made love to my wife,
the first breathe of my brother's newborn child.
Theirs is the house without the door.
And I am the carpenter that refuses to pass idly by.
Theirs is the house with a hole in the roof.
And I am the builder that makes it a window for the sun to shine through.
Yours was everything I could and could not see…
Yours was everything I could and could not see…
Yours was everything I could and could not see…
Yours was everything, everything…
Hacia adelante, hacia el jardín
Vi el ajetreo de las alas de un abejorro
revolver las cenizas de una ciudad caída.
El éxodo claro desde las marcas en el suelo,
un lirio asomó su cabeza para mostrar su mundo restaurado.
A través del desierto
pasé para ver al ganado pastar en cada hierba.
Miré al río y lo vi completo,
el osezno grizzly acostarse con el ternero.
Tuyo era todo lo que podía y no podía ver...
Tuyo era todo lo que podía y no podía ver...
Tuyo era todo lo que podía y no podía ver...
Tuyo era todo lo que podía y no podía ver...
Tuyo era todo, tuyo era todo, era todo...
Tuyo era todo, tuyo era todo, todo...
Tuyo era todo...
el campo blanco para la cosecha, el viento, el pasado, el presente,
la primera vez que hice el amor con mi esposa,
el primer aliento del recién nacido de mi hermano.
Suyo es la casa sin puerta.
Y yo soy el carpintero que se niega a pasar ociosamente.
Suya es la casa con un agujero en el techo.
Y yo soy el constructor que lo convierte en una ventana para que brille el sol.
Tuyo era todo lo que podía y no podía ver...
Tuyo era todo lo que podía y no podía ver...
Tuyo era todo lo que podía y no podía ver...
Tuyo era todo, todo...