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[Verse 1]
At the orchard gate today
Was that tomorrow?
Istenem make a fire
Kiss your heart
Risha, Arabic for feather

[Chorus 1]
In this way, my love
Whispers to me
Warm, beloved and still
This way, my love
Come to me
In a language of two hands
In this a strange poetry

She is turning, turning in
From all the temples of old
From all the holds
In which it's stowed

[Verse 2]
Turning into gold
In his way through
A sacred dimension
Not by might, not by power, by his spirit
His loving intention
His loving intention

[Chorus 2]
In this way, my love
Whispers to me
Warm, beloved and still
In this way, my love
Come to me
In a language of two hands
This a strange poetry

[Verse 3]
See the golden chariot wheel
It pitches down
Down to the bottom of the Red Sea deep
I see the end now entertaining thoughts of sleep

[Chorus 3]
In this way, my love
Whispers to me
Warm, beloved and still
In this way, my love
Come to me

[Bridge]
She is turning, she is turning in
In a language of two hands
She is turning in, she is turning
Turning into old

[Instrumental outro]

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