To The Moon – Capercaillie – letras

The everlasting swelling, hear the sound of the high swellingThe roar of the sea is as was heard by me as a childWithout change, without pity, sweeping up the sand of the shoreThe everlasting swelling, listen to the sound of the swellingBut I’ll depart from you, I’ll not move any more to meet youMy age and my appearance give an account of the shortness of my daysAt the time I am wrapped in the could slumber of deathMake up my bed by the sound of the sea.