My heart longs for open spaces,
No man’s lands - you cannot hear.
And they are coming in the winter
They fall silent on your ear.
The peace of a land forsaken
Because nobody can hold it.
Do you hear the land a coming,
In the empty, longing, open.
It is coming, It's a coming,
Though it pass through all you fear.
It's the open sacred spaces
That nobody can hear.
But I hear the open places
Falling softly on my ear.
I find the open places
In everything you fear.
