Someone is calling her shorewards
Raising dogs will sing to me
Hold back the tears in my comfort
We will forward in these pauses
Maps of a lift to the scaffold
Cut from the stone in the quarry
This old friend of mine in his silence
Passed on the second hand slips outwards
Born in the curve the song drips endless
Thrown out the boy believes the secret
Grown up the dogs begin to reach it More from Storm Corrosion