Ransom Notes

There was a time

When the mountains kept their place

They stood in line

And they waited back the gaze

No one could see

No terrain now is a rock

No feet could find

Near the heart of old road bluff

The hills are worn

The place about growing pains

The earths are closed

The mountains had their way

The kids have grown

And they watched it from above

Now I'm alone

And I see no way to run

We float on the breeze

We are held to a ransom

We are bones on the riffs

Waiting for the waves, the waves

We float on the breeze

We are held to a ransom

We are bones on the riffs

Waiting for the waves, the waves

We float...

We are bones

We float on the breeze

We are held to a ransom

We are bones on the riffs

Waiting for the waves, the waves...