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I've seen your fame chase the wind like a tongue on fireSelf-portrait of a weather vane in windy November turningMy love moves me without movingThoughts escape and words elude meAs Sisyphus and Tantalus call my nameWaiting for the dayThe day when my love becomes my loveWaiting for the day the day when my love becomes my loveGrains of sand down the throat of a chapel choirStains on Claude Monet á la gare St. LazarreMy love moves me without movingThoughts escape and words elude meAs Sisyphus and Tantalus call my nameRoll the stone just a little higherGive the bird just a little more grainFor the hill by the spireMy love moves me without movingThoughts escape and words elude meAs Sisyphus and Tantalus call my name
I've seen your fame chase the wind like a tongue on fireSelf-portrait of a weather vane in windy November turningMy love moves me without movingThoughts escape and words elude meAs Sisyphus and Tantalus call my nameWaiting for the dayThe day when my love becomes my loveWaiting for the day the day when my love becomes my loveGrains of sand down the throat of a chapel choirStains on Claude Monet á la gare St. LazarreMy love moves me without movingThoughts escape and words elude meAs Sisyphus and Tantalus call my nameRoll the stone just a little higherGive the bird just a little more grainFor the hill by the spireMy love moves me without movingThoughts escape and words elude meAs Sisyphus and Tantalus call my name