Tuesday, April 26


The wind laps and crashes against your walls
Let me in, let me in he cries
Echoes of the past, sing on to the future
When a thousand ghosts make each breath
When you are still weak from hearing them

The sun beats down on us here, we are getting old
And are we getting anywhere?
There is still the same flicker on the horizon, still the same burden
Still the load upon our backs

When the rain falls, dust flies
To a mist in the still air. So much change
So much gone forever, so much still to come
Just take me home.


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