Like a fish washed up on shore
My face is pressed hard against the floor
The songs I hear, the sights I see,
Echoes through the belfry
Crumbling stone settled with dust
All overgrown and red with rust
The waning light the colored glass
Becoming night at last
The coming night at last
How did I get here
And where was I before
Now I am like a fish washed up on shore
My mind was made
I'd climb the spiral stairway
And ring the bell to find
If I'm the only soul out here

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS