The landscape calls the wanderer, to stroll and breath in natures soul.
A place where birds can fly and waters flow.
In memory of Tim, love does never die.
The waters edge, the crunch of stone as the blue soaks into bones of old.
A sky so big, and man so small
The photograph is taken, to record the sea and sky
To stand and stare at sky and sea
In memory
The fisherman, he waits for the one that got away.
The sea does crash upon the land, the wind, it sweeps thy memory clear.
The path is clear, the speed is marked.
To hear the shots of wars that pass. The soldiers wait in rain and cold with only tea as comfort.
I stand above the line, I reach the sky for freedom calls
Open the door to pastures new.
The grasses dance upon the wind as clouds look down and smile.
A lonely beach of wind and stone. To sit and be.
