Songtext von The Night Tide

She makes her home, She lives alone By the seaside. Her fingers comb; She folds the foam By the seaside. She sits and sways; She makes her way To your insides. What losses her choices. The years pass; Her longing ebbs and flows. Her whole life a slow slide Caught in the undertow Of the night tide. Her ear's soft cone, Rosettes of folds Like a seashell. Her timid hands Smooth out the sand Where the sea swells. Her tiny sighs Cut through the night Like a buoy bell. What losses her choices. The years pass; Her longing ebbs and flows. Her whole life a slow slide Caught in the undertow Of the night tide.