A song for the last days of travel this time. I prepare to return home.
City, Country, Stone
Building now
the weight of absence
so many layers
so far from the source
your cooling depths
your collateral hold
to sit on ancient stone
to know that nothing moves you
base, foundation
deep resounding power
no words to capture
the pull of ancient land
drunk on elegant decay
relentless layers of colour
I yearn for something simple
pale, blond, back to the bone
perhaps this is my nostalgia
for my home, my continent
ancient land, pale, blond
worn to the bone