Exile

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The Ditch and the Delta

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I felt old far too young. Gave in to dragging days, far too young, far too young.
My toes barely touching down, floating above solid ground, a ghost in this land, a ghost in my town.

Stones, tell the stones, that I'm already gone. The blue of distance comes with time. 

I felt old far too young. Gave in to dragging days, far too young, far too young.

Stones, tell the stones, that I'm already gone. The blue of distance comes with time.

So drag on, beyond me, beyond me far away. Textures of longing, of longing. 
So drag on, beyond me, beyond me. Find beauty in the far away.

Stones, tell the stones, that I'm already gone. The blue of distance comes with time.

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