An old tree runs down,
To every inch of ground
by an icy old stream,
And nothing that's green can ever stand

it's not that it's so bitter
it's not that i`m even blue
it's not that i find distinctions
between my thoughts of you

could there be more rain?
could there be more night?
could there be understanding
that could set things right?

yet the tundra calls me
and yet i find you there
i reach out for your cold hand
you find me nowhere
still the tundra calls me
still i find you care
then i find my savior
then i find you there

could there be a way
to explain just what i feel?
could there be a way
to answer, and beside you kneel?
lying on my bed alone
beneath the blanket of night
and every star of memory
just to set things right

yet the tundra calls me
and yet i find you there
i reach out for your cold hand
you find me nowhere
still the tundra calls me
still i find you care
then i find my savior
then i find you there

(repeat 2x)