In the shape of your birth,
we'll come through,
marchin with lifted heads,
showin you forgotten stars----

One more time the sky is clear again,
there is nothing to disturb,
so spread out your wings,
and visit the Holy Lighthouse*

Hear them pray, feel their power,
here in the deep spacy woods,
we walk, melt together,
and I quess, it does'nt matter
if we die. so consentrate, be humble
there's a child at your door,
with a lightening, rose in it's hand,
says it's the spokesman of hearth---

Showers of GraceLight*******

Urus
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