I walked a spiraling village one night,
Drawn by the word of a bell or a light.
Out on the flats saw it rose to a spire.
It all becomes clear as the tide falls away.

Parent and child and an ocean between.
One is not heard and the other not seen.
Too many bottles but each had a message inside.
It all becomes clear as the tide falls away.
It all becomes clear as the tide falls away.

Lucky we are when the starts leave us singing
A hymn or a dirge when the surge of the ocean is gone, is gone.

And the old woman just stares at her hands,
So many heroes have crumbled to sand.
All those cathedrals were merely by men.
It all becomes clear as the tide falls away.
It all becomes clear as the tide falls away.
All falls away.