In a blue dream
Is she comfortable
With a frisky game
On ropes and rapids
And impish splashes
On a grey stone
In a hide-out and dead water
Is she possibly on a move
With modest charm
Down the river
Ever reborn
And astonishing
She commits that art
Which is the most beautiful
From ancient fire
The ground of sound is created
I hear the noise
In my heart
I hear the noise
In my heart