The promise of more,
the ripening of fruit in the spring
the shore,
the succour the silence will bring
I'm yours,
like the bounty collected by kings,
the oars
will collide in the songs I will sing,
the chorus,
an echo, an ode, it will ring,
of course,
a madness to reach everything,
I'm sore
with the hope
and the promise of more.