FOREIGN LANDS
The old things and the new things
You think they’re not the same
And yet they both are constant
And yet they both remain
A measure of the manner
By which all things are made
When more or less the answer
Is the last place that we laid
Our hearts upon the altar
Our flesh in foreign lands,
Our souls a’drift through nowhere
So we could not understand
Chorus
Oh come and see us stranger
Oh come to see us friends
You’ll find us at the end of things
The place we all begin,
Home is endless miles away
Though always where we are
We started out for paradise
But never got that far…
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This is a new song I began over the weekend. It is not yet completed, I just started on it.
Wyrdwend 