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My bible is written in the cracks of the ground asking for rain
you can read it when you fold the legs to pick up the fallen maize
on the dark side of the leaf that doesn't not see the light
inside the seeds that gulfstream spreads and gently corrects the flight
And there's no Lord and there are no saints
just life over the centuries of the centuries
I see it when i'm falling and i stopped by the ground
i see it when i'm laughing and the sun is in the sky
i see it when i'm roving and i'm not the only one
without asking, in the origins, how everything's begun
My future is written on the wrinkles of the last oak in town
with a plume dipped in the poison i have tried to throw out
and if you could find the rhytm between the spruces and the pines
you'd discover a sound of fiddles makes all of us divine
And there's no Lord and there are no saints
just life over the centuries of the centuries
I see it when i'm falling and i stopped by the ground
i see it when i'm laughing and the sun is in the sky
i see it when i'm roving and i'm not the only one
without asking, in the origins, how everything's begun