Paroles de Sit.

Don't you want to take a sip From the water's womb, the river's stream And in this endless looking for I am lost, I am found and then I hear a call A tone that echoes evermore I feel a pluck A strain, a pull, a yank and then I fall I whoop of pain I scream and then I faint Collapsing in your margin Reaching to your rim I feel a pluck The trite, the diurnal I wait for you to call in this abyss