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Teignmouth |
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On the night train |
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From the city to the south |
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I saw spirits |
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Crawl across the river mouth |
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In skewed ascension |
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With no destination |
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Like this lone bachelor in me |
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This constant yearning |
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For great love and learning |
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For the wind to carry me free |
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So when the birds fly south |
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I'll Reach up and hold their tails |
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Pull up and out of here |
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And bridle the autumn gales |
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Down to the burning cliffs |
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To the unrelenting roll |
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To marry the untold bliss |
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And anchor this lost soul |
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From my window |
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I saw two birds lost at sea |
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I caught our reflection |
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In that silent tragedy |
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But with hope prevailing |
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I draw galleons sailing |
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In full sail billowing free |
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So when the birds fly south |
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We'll reach up and hold their tails |
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Pull up and out of here |
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And bridle the autumn gales |
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I give you my hand |
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The fingers unfold |
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To have and forever hold |
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To marry the untold bliss |
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And anchor this lost soul |
