I cannot reconcile myself to this
I wish I could
I cannot live the life I ought to live
I know I should
I cannot bring myself to pray
Except to wish these words away
They echo round my head

But soon they will escape across the bleak landscape

There is a tree that grows out of this earth
It stands alone
There is a wind that shaped it from its birth
By whom the seed was sown
I cannot bring myself to sing
It is a wild untethered ting that echoes round my head

But soon it will escape across the bleak landscape

I cannot bring myself to speak
Except to wish myself asleep, asleep
But every word unuttered
Only serves to clutter up my head
And when I go to bed I dream that

Soon I will escape across the bleak landscape
And soon we shall escape across our very own bleak landscape