I've seen your fame chase the wind like a tongue on fire

Self-portrait of a weather vane in windy November turning

My love moves me without moving

Thoughts escape and words elude me

As Sisyphus and Tantalus call my name

Waiting for the day

The day when my love becomes my love

Waiting for the day the day when my love becomes my love

Grains of sand down the throat of a chapel choir

Stains on Claude Monet á la gare St. Lazarre

My love moves me without moving

Thoughts escape and words elude me

As Sisyphus and Tantalus call my name

Roll the stone just a little higher

Give the bird just a little more grain

For the hill by the spire

My love moves me without moving

Thoughts escape and words elude me

As Sisyphus and Tantalus call my name