Woven Hand - My Russia

The morning comes I’ve not yet closed my eyes Cold and bright as I need it The sun does rise These were my thoughts as I Passed neath your window Saw you through stained glass With only one eye Hide me in your hand With the mother of my children Where the land sinks deep in it’s color Bless the ground where we kneel Safe in your woven creel We follow for you speak You speak as no other