There is music in the air.
I hear it, smell it, taste it.
There is no other sound,
Against the drumming beat.
The wind blows in sweet harmony,
And catches it's breath
On the edge of the clouds
And dives down into the depths of the land
Whistling, roaring, tumbling down from heaven.
Flying to the rhythm of the music in the air.
Across the land, the rhythm wakes
The forest, the land and streams.
Raindrops glisten silver,
And fall from the outreaching leaves.
They gather in the moonlight;
So soft, so fair.
Falling to the rhythm of the music in the air.
The beat reaches the mountain tops
High above and down below.
It wakes a spirit in the chasm gold,
That churns its way to the surface.
Red hot, liquid flame, burning through the air,
But still flaming to the rhythm of the music in the air.