there is light in my lady's house

and there's none but some falling rain

this like a spoken word

she is more than her thousand names



no hands are half as gentle

or firm as they like to be

thank God you see me the way you do

strange as you are to me



it is good in my lady's house

and the shape that her body makes

love is a fragile word

in the air on the length we lay



no hands are half as gentle

or firm as they like to be

thank God you see me the way you do

strange as you are to me