The lonely writer sings of lost love
He blames his woman for his strife
He claims to him she was unfaithful
She broke his heart and broke his pride
He talks of love as a possession
One you could lose under the bed
but Love was flowing in the rivers
Long before the word was said
And if love is an old river
Then we are leaves upon its life
Though we may flow in its direction
We do not steer we do not drive
We simply float into the ocean
All must surrender when they're there
There is no fear in this surrender
Only love awaits you here
Love
Love is a blue wave rising
Love is your soul unwinding
Love is your hair upon my chest
Love is the joy of this happiness
Love is the angel bluebirds cry
Love IS
Love IS
And you my darling
You're the mountains
You are the wind that blows your hair
You sing the water in the fountains
You reflect the colours of this sphere
And I know you're an open hearted woman
Darling I'm an open hearted man
In this dance we are forgotten
It was never in our hands
Love IS
The lonely writer sings of lost love
Or at least that's what he claims
In fact he sings about possession
He sings the song of egos pain
For what is yours but an illusion ?
We all drink from the mothers wine
And are born of its conclusion
We all are songs of this divine love
Love is our hands intwining
Love is your soul uprising
Love is your breath upon my breath
Love is the birth within the death
Love is the angel bluebirds cry
Love IS
Love IS
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