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A blanket of green split came of this stone |
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He threw it away from his shoe and it grew |
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The horses turn into cows |
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And sheep lie on the edge of the road |
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The seas float across this island wind that carries through |
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The years of all the wandering souls walking on the black mountaintops |
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A flock of crows head towards the rocks |
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Eagles hover low above the sea |
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The vevers only grow at night |
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And mend to more for size in the dark |
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The seas float across this island wind that carries through |
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The years of all the wandering souls walking on the black mountaintops |
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Now the place that you see may not be |
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All they seem or the one home |
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The ancient forest still stands tall |
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Their roots that lie beneath reach the shore |
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The seas float across this island wind that carries through |
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The years of all the wandering souls walking on the black mountaintops |
