"Is it lasting?", and in asking, the sphere becomes a line
A dotted line, and to follow it, you must make a jump each time
A dotted page, a dotted hillside, a blast of dots
A blind reader, a flock of sheep, or a blast of trumpet shots

Here
All we have here is sky
All the sky is, is blue
All that blue is, is one more colour now

To measure the tower's invisible sway inside the moving skies
The cough of a swallow that softly lies there as loudly as it died
The same as the vendor who likes to sing as loudly as he can
All he says is, "It suits me fine, that's the way I am"

Here
All we have here is sky
All the sky is, is blue
All that blue is, is one more colour now

Speak a little softer, work a little harder, shoot less with more care
Sing a little sweeter, and love a little longer, and soon you will be there

Here
All we have here is sky
All the sky is, sky blue
All that blue is, is one more colour
One more colour
One more colour now

And these are some reasons, just like the seasons, they turn and then they fly
The honkless geese 'neath the goatless ledge in the speckless sky
The speckless sky
The speckless sky
I hear you
I hear you
I hear you