The way the night moves,

pulls me in.

The way the night moves,

brings me to tears.

The deserts drink their water,

as the fox fights for his valley.

Fertile beckoning warmly,

before the Autumn and The Age.

Golden, perfect and growing,

before the Autumn and The Age.

Kissing soft silver skies,

missing the moment when the moon calls out:

"Inhale the world, and exhale the light,

your body will know when to fly."

And the deserts love the shadows,

as the fox fears for his family.

Fertile beckoning warmly,

before the Autumn and The Age.

Golden, perfect and growing,

before the Autumn and The Age.

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind be ever at your backside.

May the sun shine when upon your face.

And until we meet again, may God,

hold you in the hollow,

of his hand.