Letras
On the downs above the channel
Where the wind whips from the sea
It seems to be the start of forever
The butterflies skin
And the swallows collide
With the hazy heat spiraling upwards
There's time for reflection in the noon of the day
With the woodlands and streams stretching outwards
And who's to say the wood isn't wild
And the highways and hedges have no stories to tell
And who's to say the barrows are empty
And the presence felt there isn't real
An eternal traveler sits in the sun
And ponders and muses and sleeps for a while
And soon it's time to clear the head
And stretch lazy limbs and arise
There was something or someone, somewhere, some time
But what, or who, when, and where
The eternal traveler revives
On the downs above the channel
Where the wind whips from the sea
It seems to be the start of forever
The butterflies skin
And the swallows collide
With the hazy heat spiraling upwards