Lyrics
Toes press, to stone tile
To cold white, windowless side of the wall
Climes, hold, idle mind, about
The bristlecone pine
Old pine, cone, dried
To mind form, held in abeyance in wait
For, light, rain, to point toward
The glimmerglass soil
Any finer way, to the core
Ten times ten tries to
To plumb for, home in a curtain of
Glass door, forefinger, thumb
To press, the caliper bow
Any finer day
Any room for the glow
Any circle of rose
Any side of the wall
In a waking wind
Steel to the wall inside
Elemental find
Heal for the war in time
In a fated light-of-day
Feel for the lay-in-wait
In a fallen clime
Any toe, any pine, any mind
Toes press, to stone tile
To cold white, windowless side of the wall
Climes, hold, idle mind, about
The bristlecone pine
