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.