lyrics
They lay here, prepared, in coracles of stone
To sail the racing waves, their spirits set to roam
And each is cast adrift, while anchored to the land
And in each year that past, the lark, she flew and sang
The lark in the morn, she rises off her nest
And returns home in the evening with the dew upon her breast
The lark in the morn, she whistles and she sings
And returns home in the evening with the dew upon her wings
Five ships of weathered stone, five stars upon the hill,
Five dreamers across time, five dreamers sailing still
Like all who sail the land, pale land-stars they became,
Dreamers cast adrift, for next lands to attain
The lark in the morn, she rises off her nest
And returns home in the evening with the dew upon her breast
The lark in the morn, she whistles and she sings
And returns home in the evening with the dew upon her wings
Memories they had once, of things that they had known
Harvests gathered in, and children who had grown
Lives placed into stone hulls, at the turning of their tide
Placed deep into the earth to sail the other side
The lark in the morn, she rises off her nest
And returns home in the evening with the dew upon her breast
The lark in the morn, she whistles and she sings
And returns home in the evening with the dew upon her wings
I give offerings of milk, a token of my own
As white as the soul’s sea, as white as any bone
And offerings of words, said in my foreign tongue
So different from their own, though from the same lands as they sprung
The lark in the morn, she rises off her nest
And returns home in the evening with the dew upon her breast
The lark in the morn, she whistles and she sings
And returns home in the evening with the dew upon her wings
credits
from
Liminal,
released September 1, 2018
license
all rights reserved