Wheatfields

Outside the wind is raging

Blowing the wheatfields away

And now the game is changing

And now the rules are thrown away

And the cards are turning

And my mouth is dry

As her dress is falling before my eyes

My eyes

My eyes

And now the hands are turning

And now the clocks are changing

Beauty is on the mattress

Lifting the patterns from her skin

And the clothes are falling

And her breast is mine

And her skin is holy like the sky

The sky

The sky

And the clothes are falling

And our mouths are dry

And our skin is holy

Like the sky the sky

The sky

Outside the wind is raging

Blowing the wheatfields away

And now the game is changing

And now the rules are thrown away

And now the rules are thrown away

And now the rules are thrown away

And now the rules are thrown away