There's an unrest, a restlessness that is building inside me,
I feel a storm in the stillness of the summer air,
In the rosy dusk,
And in the way the crows make their flight home.

The only peace is in the inky depth of your eyes,
In the curve of your browridge and the fullness of your lips,
In the way you sing to me,
And in the way I cry when you do.