Oystercatcher

The far away calls of a seabird somewhere

Reach me here through a desert of rooms

Rousing memories of me

I have come here to steal all that you try to conceal

I have come here to steal things that yearn to be real

Your pageant of hopes is displayed upon shelves

Finds a place among trinkets and thoughts

And emotions unemployed.

I have come here to steal all that you try to conceal

I have come here to steal things that yearn to be real

And now as I'm watching these dry bones of dreams

Dyed with gold in the afternoon sun

Now my fingers loose their feel

I have come here to steal all that you try to conceal

I have come here to steal things that yearn to be real

From afar there's a sound haunting me until I hear

Wings that leave the ground