Sparkatale

There’s a place I know where the rocks shine green,

just pass the southern land, and to the edge unseen,

Unto the deep world’s edge, where birds fly no more,

That’s where you’ll find, my emerald shore!  

On the Emerald Shore, is where I find my home,

B’tween the setting sun, and the white wash foam.

Now here the lookout cry, above the seas great roar,

That promised land, that Emerald Shore.

Oh the voyage is long, and the waves do sway,

And the storms rage wild, as to keep us away.

But the ship moves on, and our backs broken and sore,

And we stay the course, just a little minute more.

For on the Emerald Shore, is where I find my home,

B’tween the setting sun, and the white wash foam.

Now here the lookout cry, above the seas great roar,

That promised land, that Emerald Shore.

And at last,

I see them.

And at last

I have come home.

To the Emerald Shore, I have found it all,

Where I find my love, my sea, my end, to me they call.

And the lookout’s cry is now no more.

For he has gone with me, to the Emerald Shore.