The wind murmurs in the tree and it curls the sea the lights of the town so far away shine on and on from day to day. On a dark December morning long before the sun is dawning I try to get up high I try to reach the sky. Her laughter in the empty room introduces old men's doom when they try to walk on water they will meet there heaven's porter. The cry echoes through the street through the trampling feet the scene of horror fills up the air and there's her laughter from nowhere. On a sunny July morning the sun is up but I'm still yawning I try to get up high I try to reach the sky. With angels pure and bright with joy rules the sky a worshipped boy her we are almost forsaken with all our pride of steps we've taken.