Drifting dream silent film
Words with no sound
Half closed eyes
A dusk bathed scene
Onwards and sunrise bound
Ripples in the inkwell
And colour sparks a sound
With quickening light reflections are
Made on the sunrise bound
If it was real
I wouldn't speak a sound
If it was real, if it was real
I wouldn't speak a sound
"˜Cause hushed words are louder somehow
Yes hushed words are louder when you're sunrise bound
The curlew speaks the end of night
The sea she laps the sound
The rocks they turn from red and gold
Onwards and sunrise bound
Fields of early purist green
With trees cast on the ground
And holly grows in beech wood shade