In the blood of Eden, Lie the woman and the man. With the man in the woman, And the woman in the man. - Peter Gabriel

The wretched desert takes its form, the jackal proud and tight.
In search of you, I feel my way, through the slowest heaving night.
Whatever fear invents, I swear it makes no sense.
I reach through the border fence.
Come down, come talk to me.

I am standing up at the water's edge in my dream I cannot make a single sound as you scream.
It can't be that cold, the ground is still warm to touch.
This place is so quiet, sensing that storm.

In the big house,
Where the sun lives,
With the walls so white and blue.
In the red soil,
All the green grows.
And the winds blow across your face.
They blow across your heart.
It's the time of the turning and there's something stirring outside.
It's the time of turning and we'd better learn to say our goodbyes.