When the time for talk is past
statues of gold will realign their
stature,
their common focal point-
The place where
eye met eye
and I met you.
Sure, that place is long gone,
swallowed by the sea.
Sure, it's defeat,
yeah it's a symptom of the war
whether 'lone or groups between a storm.

All depressing tidings have washed away,
all seasonal blessings fade.
All apart came the threads of mind
All apart,
All in line.
You'll find me somewhere lost in mine.