Besedila: Jon Swift. Ballad of Big Sur.

The sanctuary cannot feel.
Talk to me and make me real.
Cast out from a doorway
into a night with low lights glowing.
I'm holding out my bad-luck hand.
Take me to another land
where through the cracks of war
I can see fertile fields growing

Poisonous hills fall into the sea
where undercurrents are flowing in your eyes
upon mine.

I'm building a pathway through.
Trying to tell you half of me is you.
But I must have turned shy
at a time when your frail eyes were reaching.
Looking through your boomerang glance.
You're telling me I've missed my chance.
So my love breaks out
like a distant gray whale breaching .

Our hearts do pass on heavenly spheres of glass,
but I cannot pull back from the teaching of your eyes
upon mine.

I'm singing this so you may know
that I take you with me where I go.
Upon this solid earth
your fluid flesh does fill me .
I seem to have broken through.
Most turn old, but some turn new.
And for all pursuits of heaven
what is now is what will be.

Out on the sea where I've loved and grieved,
I want you to know that I'll still see your eyes
upon mine