Sitting quietly, no lights, no sounds, no matter where I wake 
The call of the outside, strong and wild, rushing from the trees line 

My thoughts are melting with the rain, I see sorrow floating above the lake 
Pain is suspended, fears are carried away 

And sometimes I see shadows passing by, reckless, brief, unshaped 
Part of this strange world, part of the haze 

And they cross the moors, they glance at me 
Walking barefoot, proud and free 
But where are they going?