| Standing by the ocean
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| watch it tear away the shore
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| Glide out upon the desert,
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| the horizon is the door
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| And though your voice is shouting above the wind it can’t be heard
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| Drop all sense of reason,
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| it’s there you’ll find your own worth
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| And though you are surrounded, feeling quite alone
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| There’s a light to guide you home
|
| If you stand with your face to the wind off the water
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| At the point of lands end where the ocean begins
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| Look to the memory of the ones gone before
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| The light and meaning of the voices on the wind
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| Searching for safe passage
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| as you knock on every door
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| You still can hear the howling
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| of the mongrel dogs of war
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| You call out for some comfort seeking shelter from the night
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| A raging rain’s upon you
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| and you’re tired of the fight
|
| And though you are surrounded, feeling quite alone
|
| There’s a light to guide you home
|
| If you stand with your face to the wind off the water
|
| At the point of lands end where the ocean begins
|
| Look to the memory of the ones gone before
|
| The light and meaning of the voices on the wind
|
| And though you are surrounded feeling quite alone
|
| There’s a light to guide you home
|
| If you stand with your face to the wind off the water
|
| At the point of lands end where the ocean begins
|
| Look to the memory of the ones gone before
|
| The light and meaning of the voices on the wind… |