Album: other songs

Nightingale

Jacob's ardent with fear,
like a bow with death for its arrow;
In vain he searched for the final truth
to set his soul free of doubt.
Over the mountains he walked,
With his head bent searching for reason;
Then he cried out to God for help,
and climbed to the top of a hill.

Wind swept the sunlight from the wheatfield;
In the orchard, the nightingale sang,
And the plum that she broke
with her brown beak,
tomorrow, will turn into sod/sand (?).

Then she flew up through the rain,
with the sun silver-bright on her feather
Jacob put down his frown and sighed,
and walked back down the hill,
"God doesn't answer me,
and He never will."