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

Yeah little things they make me so happy You point the finger at me but I don't believe In my mind there is no time All I want to do is live by the sea But it's good yes it's good it's good to be free Head like a rock spinning round and round I found it

You point to the sky Is reflected in your eyes Want to fly On a carpet of brown leaves We retrace the steps of change Construct a tapestry of what will come You point to the sea