The thick fog of the forgotten lands
pays tribute to the waste in the sand
as the seagulls scream at the top of their lungs
when the cold night falls and the waves start to bend

The magnified sound of angry horns
slowly rolls out from water to the shores
while the madmen watch their world come apart
prayers find home among the gods of the heart

One soul is lonely if nobody resonates
with the pain that is being felt at high sea
but a single lighthouse touches their faith
from behind curtains of despair and greed

A soldier it is in the blue countryside
this building that keeps on shining a light
withstanding the wrath of thunder and time
guarding the realm of men from the dark

So did the sailors set foot once again
their demons confined in the harsh winter rain
but the glass of the bottle is prone to break
for the ocean calls forever and the hardship prevails