Torn against the soil
How easy it is to toil
To no end
A tired and weathered hand
Waving to the wind
And the earth
Calls still echo clear
And we're near to ourselves as we stand
Old stones to turn
Old stones to turn
Gather in each way
In the streets and of the hay
It's the same
Circles never sleep
Buried deep and without care
For what they keep
How dare we think
To make a line
While these lines will cycle through
How could we stop
The turns that led to I
And you
Old breaths to draw
Old breaths to draw
Old stones to turn
Old stones to turn