Из альбома: Magna Carta (Times of Change)
Turquoise is the sea-rolling deep, beneath the sky far above
whitewinged are the gulls, paper sailing on the wings of the wind
tomorrow is a word that never comes
when the world is far behind you, and the sea is turned to gold
the sky is filled with white pillow clouds
Picture in your mind a world where you can wake and be alone
listen to the murmur of the water on the sand and you will know that time is never really on your side,
when you stop and look about you,
Than you’ll find you’re left behind
nothing but the sea and the sand
Paintings of the clouds,
have put a veil across the hillside filled with rain
the sea rolls like lead upon the sand lying dead along the shore
tomorrow is a word that never comes,
when the tide runs behind you, and your footsteps float away
nothing but the sea and the sand,
nothing but the sea and the sand