I looked into a mirror made of lines
With tiny symbols here and there to make the image mine
A woman stood and painted, and showed me what to find
The different parts, the fire, the air,
and where my life would climb:
and where it joins another, and what would always bind:
It's a golden thread to hold you all of my days,
Hold my head against you, now and for always,
Sewn me up, shown us a long, long time;
Makes you my life, makes you my life.
The moving finger writes and goes away;
I'm weighed upon a balance here
and I'm told that I can stay
The kettle heats, the water speaks up, says I'm not alone;
My whole life is a tapestry, and hanging in my home.
And here it joins another, by what will always bind:
An when you looked your angel flew away
And what it meant was your protection's gone another day
And what has come to change you,
and have you come what may
Is fashioned by an old triangle, green as April haze,
And blue is just a colour, but blue is here to stay.
Autor(es): Thom Moore