At night the hermit in the wood
He falls asleep a wealthy man.
He knows at dawn it will be good
All diamonds will be there again.
He knows, he follows
His deeper sound
His ever magic looking eyes
They strew his heart around.
The little duckling grey and bald
She sadly thinks her mates are gone
But then, as spring is growing old,
She feels the feathers of a swan.
She knows, she follows
What’s there inside
She spreads her white and spacious wings
No reason more to hide.
The hammer and the chisel go
And hit the rock with iron tone
Now say, how does the sculptor know
There is a sculpture in the stone?
He knows, he follows
What’s there to say
He hits the superfluous and
The ballast all away.
© 2005
tekst: Cora
muziek: Inner Strength
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