La Maree Haute
Lhasa de Sela
The High Tide
The road sings,
When I go away.
I take three steps,
The road falls silent.
The road is black,
As far as the eye can see.
I take three steps,
The road is no more.
On the high tide,
I have climbed.
The mind is full,
But the heart is not enough.
On the high tide,
I have climbed.
The mind is full,
But the heart is not enough.
Hands of lace,
Wooden face,
The body in brick,
The eyes sting.
Hands of lace,
Wooden face.
I take three steps
And you are there.
On the high tide,
I have climbed.
The mind is full,
But the heart is not enough.
On the high tide,
I have climbed.
The mind is full,
But the heart is not enough.
