Now that there is no turning
stand you here with me...

I stand here now
facing a monument to futility...

There is a rumour born
in the cold mist of morning...

I stand with you now
on the headland...

These old cobbles have rung loud
with the hard iron clad hooves of war...

This quiet moment awaits us all
there on the threshold of our tomorrows...

We are ever eager to disown the rage
of the beast lodged deep within our souls...

A Sea that once held water
spreads a gleam of white bones...

A child was told the stories of God
and listened with rising wonder...

Hanging to a thread of remembrance
consequences fall across the world...

Will you Think of me
in the odd moment's quiet tremor...

I heard a story once
of something called a River...