( Hammill )
Lighthouses might house the key
but can I reach the door?
I want to walk on the sea
so that I may better find a shore...
but how can I ever keep my feet dry?
I scan the horizon
I must keep my eyes on
all parts of me.
Looking back on the years
it seems that I have lost my way;
like a dog in the night, I have run to a manger;
now I am the stranger I stay in...ah, well.
All of the grief I have seen
leaves me chasing solitary peace
but I hold experience in my head
I'm too close to the light
I don't think I see right
for I blind me...
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