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作曲 : Michael Murphey

作词 : Michael Murphey

Wild grace has its own place, has its own face, prone to flight.

Sky grown, wind-blown wings flown over air blown back to night.

Flashing, freely clashing, love of chaos, love of one.

Bright storms rising free forms, wild swans against the sun.

Spirit - none go near it; all men fear it more than night.

Some say, love goes one way, and then one day, no more flight.

Well, this year, it is not clear just what ends here or what's begun.

We are bright storms rising free forms; we're wild swans against the sun.