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 thing

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

Every word unuttered

Only serves to clutter up my head

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