Northern Lights
Bruce Cockburn
Sunday night and it's half past nine
Sunday night and it's half past nine
Sunday night and it's half past nine
I'm leaving one more town behind
Mirrors are showing the day's last glow
Mirrors are showing the day's last glow
Mirrors are showing the day's last glow
As we're spit out into the jigsaw flow
Ahead where there should be the thickness of night
Stars are pinned on a shimmering curtain of light
Sky full of rippling cliffs and chasms
That shine like signs on the road to heaven
I've been cut by the beauty of jagged mountains
And cut by the love that flows like a fountain from God
So I carry these scars, precious and rare
And tonight I feel like I'm made of air