---

Another, then I'm gone again
you wave your hand over my lens
But I am watching something good
I'd tell you if you understood.

Living on a hill with its back to the sun
Growing nothing still, all the work it gets done

I'm keeping still the things that kill
desire and will, its fine until
I hear a word that sits with me
Like sour milk I pour it free.

Living on a hill with its back to the sun.
Growing nothing, still all the work it gets done.
~~~♫♫♫~~~

Underneath the hill was a hidden town
Buried were the fields and the buildings drowned.
Sometimes in the evenings I take my boat
just to see the town
and I feel that I want to swim down.

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