The Southern Cross and the Wine Dark Sea

The southern cross and the wine dark sea, 

flung, scattered far, o'er oceans deep. 

As the horizon takes the sun, 

we toil until our day is done. 

As the sun goes down, 

we dream on. 


Theres a place I dwell on all in my sleep, 

her rocky shores, they lap at my feet. 

Where silver salmon run

in rivers where they were born. 


I count her mountains in my sleep, 

Each proud ben and soaring peak. 

The sun comes up to golden' hills, 

It crests nine waves then all is still. 

A clear vision bright, 

No movement.