There's ghosts in your eyes for as long as
The tall grass will grow
And there's swan fields for days
Pacing about on the boat
You're a mountain range that I've never seen
But you don't look too strange
And the ice will melt
From your walls
I was stuck in the place where the currents would crest
A lighthouse, a gate on the common, the impatient west
So I spin in place
I wait for the end of the circular days
As the ice slowly thaws
In my veins
You're a mountain range that I've never seen
But you don't look too strange
And the ice will melt
From your walls