Someone is calling her shorewards Much like horses Raising dogs will sing to me
Hold back the tears in my comfort We move forwards In these pauses the storm corrodes
Maps of a lift to the scaffold On a nursery floor Begs aloud not to stay
Cut from the stone in the quarry This old friend of mine In his silence the stone corrodes
Passed on the second hand slips outwards Born in the curve the song drips endless Thrown out the boy believes the secret Grown up the dogs begin to reach it