When the winter blows like blades, slicing air and falling hard to the ground, where will we be found?
As the summer of our days smoulders into ashes of blue and grey,
As the wheel goes round...
I know you, it's coming back to me,
I know you, it's coming back to me,
Does the river know it is rain?
It holds the sky like a looking-glass from afar, and that's the way we are,
More than in a name, an image born through time, and time, and time again, of a father's heart.
I know you, it's coming back to me,
I know you, it's coming back to me,
I know you, it's coming back to me,
When the winter blows like blades, slicing air and falling hard to the ground, where will we be found?
Where will we be found?
I know you,
I know you,
I know you, it's coming back to me,
I know you, it's coming back to me,
I know you, it's coming back to me,
I know you, you, it's coming back to me,
I know you,
I know you, it's coming back to me,
(fade)
