Night owns my white bones but what's left is still saying
Strange prayers in high places wild airs with wilder graces
Birds fly with no motion what draws me draws the ocean
Down on my knees again, Still believing
In the time of reason no more.
Down on my knees again, Still believing
Peace of mind is worth any chore.
Great dreams and laid schemes, Just blown down by high winds
And strong signs from old forces, Wild dogs run trackless courses
Night changes sweet mountain, Vain hopes need cold fountains
Down on my knees again, Still believing
In the time of reason no more.
Down on my knees again, Still believing
Peace of mind is worth any chore.
Night owns my white bones but
What's left is still saying
Down on my knees again, Still believing
In the time of reason no more.
Down on my knees again, Still believing
Peace of mind is worth any chore.
Thom Moore
