the furrowed bed of sand worries again as it had before, waves left the land. before the falling tide leaves the child weepeing alone, he`s letting go of the anchor and all the lines... waiting for the fingers of the grey wave of his mother`s hand to roll over him with endless water... 10,000 bridges show me father. now I`m older, now much older and this wake can take me out to sea. and this wake can take me out to sea. I can see her, she is calling me I can feel her there...I can feel her there. waiting for the fingers of the grey wave or his mother`s hand to roll over him with endless water... 10,000 bridges show me father
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