From the recording Chroma
Lyrics
They're falling out of the sky
Red and black pearls.
And mother Mary's crying, letting tears drop into the heat of the sun
Touch your life, tickle your skin, with some way of knowing. You can't kill something so beautiful, you can't kill something so beautiful
Bright as an apple, shined with a cloth
Black circles, polished and glossed
And everyone is made perfect, from the shelter of her heart
Touch your life, tickle your skin, with some way of knowing. You can't kill something so beautiful, You can't kill something so beautiful.
They're hovering over the street, landing on the pavement
And mother nature's crying tears of joy even when she's dying.