Leaving my home shores and north winds,nBrittle maps of my ribs bowing.nThey carried blood down to my handnWhere they struck you dumb, made you a believer.nnNo matter how hard you try – they fail to listen to you –nThough they swear you’re free to rise – but they’ve placed their hands upon you –nAnd time and time again – they’re grouping to welcome you –nBut you’re alone with everyone.nnThis reach of crooked lines and hollows,nThe ground falling under my fingertips.nI draw napes and brows and scars, I walk on water.nAnd all the rivers sing: ‘all I am is of here’.nnIf you feel you’re on your ownnYour world’s in rhymes that you can’t understand at alnAnd you’re left to broken homesnHolding out for one more chance to come along.nnAnd the songs that filled the house – were lifted to the rooftops.nOf the glory in their hearts – and the gathering of the crowd.nThe water washed my mouth – and the language that I spoke –nWas snaked in riddles, roped in code.