|
On a distant shore, miles from land |
|
Stands the ebony totem in ebony sand |
|
A dream in a mist of gray |
|
On a far distant shore |
|
The pebble that stood alone |
|
And driftwood lies half buried |
|
Warm shallow waters sweep shells |
|
So the cockles shine |
|
A bare winding carcass, stark |
|
Shimmers as flies scoop up meat |
|
An empty way, dry tears |
|
Crisp flax squeaks tall reeds |
|
Make a circle of gray |
|
In a summer way, around man |
|
Stood on ground |
|
I'm trying |
|
I'm trying |
|
To find you |
|
To find you |
|
I'm living, I'm giving |
|
To find you, to find you |
|
I'm living, I'm living |
|
I'm trying, I'm giving |