Come wander quietly and listen to the wind.
Come near and listen to the sky.
Come walking high above
the rolling of the sea,
and watch the swallows as they fly.

There is no sorrow like
the murmur of their wings.
There is no choir like their song.
There is no power like
the freedom of their flight,
While the swallows roam alone.

Do you hear:
The calling of a hundred thousand boys?
Do you hear:
The trembling in the stone?
Do you hear:
The angry bells ringing in the night?
Do you hear:
The swallows when they've flown?

And will the breezes
blow the petals from your hand?
And will some loving ease your pain?
And will the silence drive
confusion from your soul?
And will the swallows come again?