The Scull Of Lucia

(альбом: Bird Machine - 2023)

Don't hold my hand across the sand
Never had no father
Showed me to water
For you to drink
Like that old thing
Some are born
To sweet the light
And some are born
To endless night

The skull, the old skull of Lucia
With me, she will never see ya
In the days or in the light

Like stars being born
Or time being torn
It could have all ended
Right then and there
And be ghosts in the morn

The sea I wade
And tried to fade
Spat me aground
Got found undrowned
And so I stayed

Dry but slightly torn and frayed
The crown around her head it played
And it spun, made from the sun