to feel it once or twice before
swallow the high tide
within the beating of the shore
the grey of the wayside
from the sea I listen low
adrift my soul
over the waves that grow
from a life so long ago
taking comfort by the stones
wait for the morning rise
when in the beating of the shore
words appear in the sky
from the sea my minds afloat
I try to row over the ocean floor
from the sea I listen low
adrift my soul
over the waves that grow
from a life so long ago
from the sea my minds afloat
I try to row over the ocean floor
from the sea I listen low
adrift my soul
over the waves that grow
from a life so long ago