Horsetail - Wovenhand

He come up and throw himself down

He finds no strength to get off this ground

By the wave of the horsetail

By the wave of the horsetail

He wishes no height

No height in your mind

To climb the steep hill none the can find

If you think you can see it in your hand

Then you are blind

For unless he draw them

They will not come

For no man seeks him

No not one

There is number to your hours

There is number to your hours

You I don’t know

From a stone’s throw

If you think you can see it in your hand

Then you are blind

He bring the whirlwind

To scatter your fire

You cannot reach him

No not from your

Tallest spire