(©Thomas Schuber 2008)

Green it comes as usual, the spring conquers the hills
Waters running freely under bridges, under mills
Under bridges, under mills
The wind is soft, the grass is wet, the winter‘s gone, the cold has fled

Again I roam the farthing seeking solitude and news
To the border on whatever road I choose
On whatever road I choose
The air is sweet, the ground is dry, the crop grows fast against the sky

And now
There‘s patches, tiny bits and pieces on the wind
And there‘s rumours, leaking through the borders of this land
Too far off in space and time to unsettle homegrown minds
But I fear, tales and legends turn out real, it‘s getting dark, they growing near

Starlight on the water, the river‘s running fast
Sit in silence, hear him whisper of the past

Speak of lights and wonders and of dark and far off places
Invitation, Inspiration, maps and vast blank spaces

Few have noticed, most ignore, the east grows darker than before

And now
There‘s patches, tiny bits and pieces on the wind
And there‘s rumours, leaking through the borders of this land
Too far off in space and time to unsettle homegrown minds
But I fear, tales and legends turn out real, it‘s getting dark, they growing near

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