An old tree runs down,    To every inch of ground    by an icy old stream,    And nothing that's green can ever stand      it's not that it's so bitter   it's not that i`m even blue   it's not that i find distinctions   between my thoughts of you      could there be more rain?   could there be more night?   could there be understanding   that could set things right?      yet the tundra calls me   and yet i find you there   i reach out for your cold hand    you find me nowhere   still the tundra calls me   still i find you care   then i find my savior    then i find you there      could there be a way   to explain just what i feel?   could there be a way    to answer, and beside you kneel?    lying on my bed alone   beneath the blanket of night   and every star of memory    just to set things right      yet the tundra calls me   and yet i find you there   i reach out for your cold hand    you find me nowhere   still the tundra calls me   still i find you care   then i find my savior    then i find you there      (repeat 2x)