On the brink at the ocean-shore
the wind plays in my hair.
And sunset-twilight colours
the scenary into a long forgotten dream.

Walking up the hillside
passing through the mist.
Standing still to listen,but it's quiet
just me, and silence in the fog.

Reaching the top
the mist disappears
just so I can see the sun coming up.


I can sense
I can sense an awesomness
that lies beyond my reach.

I can sense
I can sense that power
a wonder working power over me.


Over my head, when I lay in my bed,
perhaps on the underground train,
or in the warm summer rain.
In the cathedral pew, or on the
dancefloor with you.


I can sense
I can sense that awesomness
that lies inside my reach.

I can sense
I can sense that power
has finally been given to me
- freely.


A sign of our time
when the heart of men
turns cold, so cold
as a late decemberlake.

And the sirens of war
wakes me up at night,
or earthquakes shake,
our house rattle and roll.


I can sense
I can sense deep into the mind
that this is the end time.

I can sense
I can sense strongly, highly prophetic,
like all have been said before.


Tideways coming in,
and washes my soul away.
Drifting along,
in the streaming waterflow.

I float on my back,
and look up to the stars.
The power of love,
an arrow in my heart spills out my life into the night.


I can sense
I can sense it as a strong intuition,
divinity shines like gold to me.