Thunder, more felt than heard,
crickets and distant bells,
The pipes in the sound garden bump shoulders and let their songs go out into the world.
All is well. All is well. All is well is all they tell.
Listen, God is singing through the Elms, first as thunder, then as wind, then as trembling leaves and limb.
Thunder, more felt than heard,
crickets and distant bells,
The pipes in the sound garden bump shoulders and let their songs go out into the world.
All is well. All is well. All is well is all they tell.
