I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I am a mountain, I am a tall tree, I am a swift wind sweepin’ the country, I am a river down in the valley, I am a vision and I can see clearly. If anybody asks you who I am, just stand up tall, look ‘em in the face and say I’m that star up in the sky, I’m that mountain peak up high.