THE LAMMAS LANDS

I imagine those pilgrims to the New England at their first harvest festival - the Lammas. You can still see it as they would have done - the wild, pagan and beautiful new land.

Wish you were here
RICK

"That was the first card. I'm following his trail - a little cold now. "Those sky-blue eyes that look right at you". They saw all this...But it's just another old world now. ....The Lammas. Why does it make me think of "The Crows in the Cornfield" - Van Gogh's suicide note?.... "Taxi for Mr. Jaeger!" Time to go."

Turning away from the land of my blood
A cold refugee on a staggering ocean
We stood upon the shore in the talons of winter
To raise a cup of wine
For those we left behind
Born to die in regions of sorrow

Crimson and gold in the Valley of Oak
The traces of dawn are rising from the river
The sun scatters stars on the shimmering leaves
Above the singing cornfield
Burns in glory, burns with hope
The harvest of our dreams
The harvest of our dreams

I still dream of the pain of the life in the streets
The grey, empty eyes of the weary and broken
All of them were lost in the wake of my vessel
The lesson of my soul
To learn to live again
I am born once more in reach of tomorrow

The touch of this world is like sun on my skin
And the light of this world is cornflower blue
The world that was promised in the book of creation
Fades the faint horizon to promises of joy
This land is for our children
This land that fell to me
We did not come to conquer
We came here to be free

And the new king is crowned and Elysium found
And his throne in the meadow is glowing with flowers
We are reaping our fortune, the blessing of life
And raising up our harvest
Of bread and honey wine
We hold it to the sky
Into the perfect sky
Into the perfect heavens
Into the perfect sky

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