The Lakes

(альбом: Post Tropical - 2014)

Stolen away from restful dream
Abduct the light, abhorrent seed
Feeling brave we cut it true
Could not say if I had proved much use
Or chaos in regard

Out when the climate comes again
We barrel back, an hour ten
Give it all, miles away
Heads alone at the wildest day
That ever take in hold
Settle with regard all that is called upon

Now to the lakes where at last we'd go
I was not late I was there below
Low laid in wait at the fork at the row
With a trailing shoulder, faded form
And precious left untold
Elements of frost
Inches of ice and gauze

To recall it I hear the wind blow
Further salt and down through the mourning
To recall it I hear the wind blow