Sunny days are gone. They towed in the rain. And winter smiled at me with a grin that shakes leaves off the trees. Clouds soon wil reign, the bay and start to sing in whispers that will grow into waves that will break on the shore.

The waves will rock this boat around but we'll stand our ground. Pound for pound you won this round.

I tried to sail away, the skies kept me at bay. And splinters in my spine kept my boat anchored and tied. I tried to no avail to cast up the sails. And winter smiled at me and said keep my boat off the sea.

The waves will rock this boat around but we'll stand our ground. Pound for pound you won this round.

Winter

I was a child left alone. Left to run wild, the forest my home. Roots are where I rest. Mother Nature knows best.
  
   I was a child.

Cambria Pines by the Sea come and rescue me. Pull me under undertow, down to the depths below.

   I was a child.

And I was designed for the sea oh for the sea.

Designed For The Sea

I grew up where the zebras roam, the elephant seals call the beach their home. Whales are spotted in the winter time. Tourists flock to pay the vendors dime.

Ooohs and aaaahs at the things we saw, but it's you I sank into

Palm trees standing a mile tall. Standing guard against the castle walls. Waves roll in and waves roll out. The crash on the shore drowns the childrens' shouts.

Ooohs and aaahs at the things we saw. But it's you I sank into. Ooohs and aaahs at the things we saw, I left you standing with open jaws, our backs are pressed up against the walls. But it's you I sank into.

Swing home to the place that holds my heart, where the rocks and the sand and the trees all start. Swing home to the place that holds my heart.

Castle Walls

I will be something the air will breath, something the trees will need, when I am gone. So I'll just move on.

I will be possibly everything, then again nothing, nothing at all. But it's not my fault. 

You will be something the air will breath, something the trees will need, when you are gone. So you should move on.

You will be possibly everything, then again nothing, nothing at all. But it's not your fault. 

We will be something the air will breath, something the trees will need, when we are gone. So we'll just move on.

We will be possibly everything, then again nothing, nothing at all. And it's all our fault. 

Belly of the Whale