| 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 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 grey 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. |