Ane Brun med Changing of the seasons från skivan Changing of the seasons.
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He falls asleep on her chest
the best sleep he´d ever met
nevertheless he dreams of some stranger´s caress
so he awakes and he knows
maybe someone else is supposed
to meet his hazy anticipating eyeshe draws the curtains aside
unfolding the first morning light
he glances at his disenchanted liferestlessness is me, you see
it´s hard to be safe
it´s difficult to be happyit´s the changing of the seasons
he says ”I need them”
I guess I’m too Scandinavian
the relief of spring
intoxication of summer rain
the clearness of fall
how winter makes me reconsider it allrestlessness is me, you see
it´s hard to be safe
it´s difficult to be happyand then she awakes
reaches for the embrace
he decides not
to worry about seasons again