Whistling Girl Songtext / Lyric

A whistling girl

Among his flock of sheep

Lay breathing backward rest assured

Of Elijah and gods birds



It will fall to us

It will fall to us



Inside the home the folk pine grow

Where hearts are fire sparks are thrown

Is all that glitters

This terrible weakness






It falls to us

It falls to us

From his holy hill

By his perfect will



Through the open eyes

Soul tonight

His yolk is easy and his burden light

Kiss the sun lest he be angry

And you perish in the way



The rivers of the sky are dry

A roll up like a scroll

Down below

We tend to the forgetting

Forgetting what we know

The sun slips from your shoulder

As you enter in the wood

Without thought of thorns

Without thought of thorns