I cannot reconcile myself to this - I wish I could!I cannot live the =
life I ought to live - I know I should!I cannot bring myself to =
pray,Except to wish these words awayThey echo round my headBut soon they =
will escapeAcross the Bleak Landscape
There is a tree that grows out of this earthIt stands aloneThere is a =
wind that shaped it from its birthBy whom the seed was sownI cannot =
bring myself to singIt is a wild, untethered thingThat echoes round my =
headBut soon it will escapeAcross the bleak landscape
I cannot bring myself to... speakExcept to wish myself asleepEvery word =
unutteredOnly serves to clutter up my headWhen I go to bedI dream =
thatSoon I will escapeAcross the bleak landscape
And soon we shall escapeAcross our very own bleak landscape