You point to the sky
The sky
Is reflected in your eyes
And I
Want to fly
On a carpet of brown leaves
We retrace the steps of change
Construct a tapestry of what will come
You point to the sea
I see
What seems to be so free
Bound by
Empty sky
On a tower of gray earth
Far above the spray-struck stone
We climb toward the melting point of time
Here we tumble down the path
Comic beggars trading laughs
For scraps from the tables of the wise
Known comments by Bruce Cockburn about this song, by date:
Help out!
To add material to this section, see this page first.
This page is part of The Cockburn Project, a unique website that exists to document the work of Canadian singer-songwriter and musician Bruce Cockburn. The Project archives self-commentary by Cockburn on his songs and music, and supplements this core part of the website with news, tour dates, and other current information.
