You say that once you knew for sure,
Now you're walking in the shore to wonder.
The more you learn, the less you know,
The more you move,
the more you go to nowhere.
You ask a bird as she flies by,
just where she's at,
And she says, where the wind blows.
Ask her by that what she means,
she says she doesn't know,
And as she flew away,
she seemed to say,
The wind is love,
is the wind.
Wind
is my love,
who knows
the wind?
Who knows my love,
where blows
the wind?
Wind is my love.
You say you stagger to your room,
Sleep by day and plot by moon, your conscious
plight.
Back your dreams, you move away,
Decide to eat and live by day,
And leave the night.
The sun blinks in your eyes,
you shade your face,
And realize a lonely crowd.
Then at once you feel the smile,
and then the ice-warm air moves by,
She says the breeze provokes her sigh,
The wind is love,
is the wind.
Wind is my love,
who knows
the wind?
Who knows
my love,
where blows
the wind?
Wind is my love.
You say you found another spring,
Another joy, a human thing, called lovers.
You play your roles of comedy,
Refreshing well the tragedy you're living.
Love was sure, so you say,
But like the wind, love blew away.
But as she left, she seemed to say,
The wind is love,
is the wind.
Wind
is my love,
who knows the wind?
Who knows
my love,
where blows the wind?