Texty: Wuthering Heights. Salt. The Field.

At the edge of a dream, it seems
I walk at the edge of a field
I touch the soil
Searching for something

To the ground I kneel, I feel
The presence of all who went before
And suddenly
The veil between us is no more

Like a fastforwarding film the surroundings change
The clouds passed swiftly overhead
But the field is constant, at ease
Like a warm, green bed

For aeons did my fathers draw
Their life up from this earth
Now next to this my years of rambling
Seem of little worth

And in a flash I want nothing
But to tend this piece of land
Provide for myself and my kin
By the strength of my hand

Give me well-tilled earth
Under an open sky
Ale and song as the evening goes by
Skin against skin, then an untroubled sleep
All in a simple man's dream
All else you can keep

Here nothing's changed
Save for the lessening of hope
For I've been a rambler, a pirate, a gambler
I don't know
How to make things grow

And it frightens me we keep our fortunes
Locked in towers of glass
And soon we must bury our future
When we lose our past

Give me well-tilled earth
Under an open sky
Ale and song as the evening goes by
Skin against skin, then an untroubled sleep
All in a simple man's dream
All else you can keep

Not lightly balanced are the scales
When fortune's weighed against ambition
Happier it seems is he
Who does not struggle for a mission
No one recalls how the picture should look
All cling to his own little piece of the puzzle
Always on the hunt for new distractions
Gone is the joy of working the muscle

It's like peeling an onion
Trying to remove all that's foul and false
I know there is truth in this ground
Hear the sound
As down the ages it calls

Give me well-tilled earth
Under an open sky
Ale and song as the evening goes by
Skin against skin, then an untroubled sleep
All in a simple man's dream
Give me well-tilled earth
Under an open sky
Ale and song as the evening goes by
Skin against skin, then an untroubled sleep
All in a simple man's dream

And the rest you can keep