Islands More Islands

We have everything
We have ever seen, close at hand
From the streets and the walks
And the fields and the tarmac
To the meals and the songs
And the words and the work I did
And I’ve told you
Where the dark went when I lit it
And what the words were
When I made then
And the fire in the bold
Sun creaking like it’s old
We have everything
We have ever seen, close at hand
From the yards and their grass
And the sum of (I guess) everything
To the calls of the crows
And the color shifts of the corn
And I’ve told you
Where the dark went when I lit it
And what the words were
When I made then
And the fire in the bold
Sun creaking like
It ought to creak
And all ll that I could hear were birds
All that I could hear were birds
All that I could hear were birds
But I know the sound
Of engines in the distance