When the birds make
Little shadows
Little crosses
On the ground
Not a move
Not a breath
Not a sound
Not a word
For to keep it somehow
When the Sun sets
A little later
A little warmer
On the ground
Not a move
Not a breath
Not a sound
Not a word
For to keep it somehow
I don't know why the river flows away
From where we try
The pretty in the blues
The you and I
When our field breaks
Into summer
Into mad youth
Off the ground
Not a pause
Every breath
Every sound
In our love
We can keep it somehow
And we know how the village holds a place
And where it hides
The pretty in the blues
The you and I