Deep green hills whose shoulders fade into thick grey
Tall wet grass whose flesh makes fools of grazing sheep
Whose fleecing makes a fool of me
Who shall i blame for this sweet and heavy trouble
For every stupid struggle i don't know
I could buy you a drink
I could tell you all about it
I could tell you why i doubt it and why i still believe
I can't say it like i sing it
I can't sing it like i think it
I can't think like i feel it
And i don't feel a thing
...Why i still believe it
Why i need it
And what the pharisees can't see
We'd have more drinks
And speak of so many things
But i don't know you and you don't know me

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