This Beautiful Mess. Here I Stand. Zeneszám

Here I stand
Looking out to sea
Where a thousand souls, have prayed
And a thousand lives were laid
On the sand, were laid on the sand

Years have past
Since they have died
And the word shall last
And the wild goose shall fly, shall fly

Here I stand
Looking out to the sea
And I say a prayer
That the wild goose will come to me

To me, to me, to me