The sun streams in through a window
Lighting up the face of a man below
A man who kneels before the altar
Though he no longer has the faith
...
She moved from the city to Cornwall
To live out her days in an old Cornish house
But she discovered soon after she moved in
That things in the garden kept being moved about
...
I had left the city lights behind
Travelling far into the country
A route I'd never taken before
Parked the car and got out to walk
...
Everyday it's the same old routine
You rise and go to work
Return home, go to bed
Living for the weekends, unless
...
It's not just the mountains
Beautiful, awe-inspiring, old as time
Or the quiet mind calming lakes
That they call lochs
...
I'm not in the mood for knitting or sewing
I'm not in the mood for any card games
I'm not in the mood for what's on television
I'm not in the mood for reading a book
...
As I walked along that lonely shore
Miles and miles from anywhere
A thick sea mist obscured the horizon
Even the gulls were quiet
...
The west wind comes from over the sea
Whipping up the spume or blowing gently
Full of rain from drizzle to lashing storm
Shaking loose fruit from the boughs of trees
...
I went exploring along the beach
And entered a deep dark cave
Torch on, I followed it to the end
Whereupon to my surprize
...
I stand high upon the castle wall
Looking over the parapet
At the grassy plain below
And the distant misty, undulating hills
...