Wheatfields
Outside the wind is raging
Blowing the wheatfields away
And now the game is changing
And now the rules are thrown away
And the cards are turning
And my mouth is dry
As her dress is falling before my eyes
My eyes
My eyes
And now the hands are turning
And now the clocks are changing
Beauty is on the mattress
Lifting the patterns from her skin
And the clothes are falling
And her breast is mine
And her skin is holy like the sky
The sky
The sky
And the clothes are falling
And our mouths are dry
And our skin is holy
Like the sky the sky
The sky
Outside the wind is raging
Blowing the wheatfields away
And now the game is changing
And now the rules are thrown away
And now the rules are thrown away
And now the rules are thrown away
And now the rules are thrown away