Our finest gifts we once bring
Over oceans, not to our dreams
Three fifths out across these ways
Forgotten histories, they now rush in.
Gilded grass bending beneath a hand
On lone salt swept sunless hilltops
As cold rain it falls, it follows you
Inside nightmares, tempest gales storm.
Then you hear, hear the silence behind
Behind their storms, waking in full blue
While the ocean, the sea dances for you
All these wild winds, they lift up so true.
Your finest gifts you carry, you now bring
Inked, inked in tempest storms upon your skin.