The farmer looses his horse from the plough
The fisher ties his boat to the shore
While in the yard
A girl unties the wash from the line
And hands make knots in twisted twine
And everything is bright
A mother sits by the fire and sighs
The baby in the cradle still cries
While on the lake
The sun sinks down in a crimson tide
And branch and rope and flesh collide
And everything is blood
The blackbird sleeps in the top of the tree
The rabbit burrows deep underneath
While in between
Untouched but dressed by the moonlit leaves
A lover swings on a careless breeze
And everything is bone
Everything is blood
Everything is bright