The line runs through like a train in a book
Or metres underwater, ending with a hook
It sways in the air when there's
wind enough to lift,
The fine ones are boundaries when
There is a rift

I'm just pulling on a line, on a line
I'm just pulling on a line
I'm just pulling on a line, on a line
Sometimes it pulls on me

The line, it inks across the freshly fallen snow,
Where only those embracing coldness would go
It whistles and it whispers, and sometimes it howls,
It sings to me sweetly from the trees and in vowels

I'm just pulling on a line, on a line
I'm just pulling on a line
I'm just pulling on a line, on a line,
And sometimes it pulls on me

The line, it writes itself across the dark sky,
In the electric flushes ending with a sigh
It weaves itself into a fabric so true
and flows just like the river, graceful and blue

I'm just pulling on a line, on a line,
I'm just pulling on a line
I'm just pulling on a line, on a line
And sometimes it pulls on me