The ship of blues is sailing
With seeds of love in your brain
The song kills the silence
And you let it blow you away
Sound of hooves in the distance
Fills a misty hazy morning
Vision's not a forte
When the mind is drifting away.
Chisel the ice before I freeze,
Neath' the tall swinging trees
Splash into my song and please
Pull me right into your breeze.
My fettered wishes abound
But the plate is empty still
The will to conquer it all
But the fear of losing speaks
Furrows on your forehead
From walking the thin long rope
But grains of wisdom on the ground
Will foster a garden of hope
Chisel the ice before I freeze,
Neath' the tall swinging trees
Splash into my song and please
Pull me right into your breeze.
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