Caedmon's Call

  •  Name Caedmon's Call
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  • Caedmon's Call The High Countries Lyrics

           

    A bus station, in the steam from the rain

    In this line of pale strangers, should I go or stay?



    The whole field of vision, fades beneath me now

    And the houses spread for a million miles,

    in this gray town



    And the weight of glory, if you held it in your hand

    It would pass right through you, so now's your chance



    Would you fall to pieces

    Would you fall to pieces

    Would you fall to pieces

    In the high countries?



    We are just pilgrims of the great divorce

    I am witness to the light and I am captive to my own remorse



    And the weight of glory, if you held it in your hand

    It would pass right through you, so now's your chance



    You drink the cup to the bottom, but it burns in your hands

    The cup was poured out on the Maker instead



    Out on the green plains, I am but a ghost

    Bound up with all that I call "mine" still the light grows



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