boats are moored in distant ports
the island wives cry in their huts
sounds of sadness slipping away
into the wound of waves
on a cold shore
the cliffs watch
the deep waits
what is loss but an ocean
with one of us on each side
boats are moored in distant ports
the island wives cry in their huts
sounds of sadness slipping away
into the wound of waves
on a cold shore
the cliffs watch
the deep waits
what is loss but an ocean
with one of us on each side