Someone is calling her shorewards

Much like horses

Raising dogs will sing to me

Hold back the tears in my comfort

We move forwards

In these pauses the storm corrodes

Maps of a lift to the scaffold

On a nursery floor

Begs aloud not to stay

Cut from the stone in the quarry

This old friend of mine

In his silence the storm corrodes

Passed on the second hand slips outwards

Born in the curve the song drips endless

Thrown out the boy believes the secret

Grown up the dogs begin to reach it