Holts are nearly always close to the sea Fallen boulders, old ruins, and cliffs All at the top of a sand crevice High above the sea A safe place for cubs We wait tense We're disappointed She leaves her sprint loaded by others of us The holts are evenly

And I've been waiting in the weeds, Waiting for my time to come around again. And hope is floating on the breeze, Carrying my soul high up above the ground. And I've been keeping to myself, Knowing that the seasons are slowly changing. Even know you're

Come wander quietly and listen to the wind Come here and listen to the sky Come walking high above the rolling of the sea And watch the swallows as they fly There is no sorrow like the murmur of their wings There is no choir like their song There is no