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