Their lives bubbled up from beneath the fighting.


The sillouhette of something that once was cast in the shadow of an evening's sun

Two once lovers had danced their final dance
And said their last goodbyes


Years later, having heard the other had passed
One returned to Turnstile De Lione
And there he sat on a small stone upon the beach
The sillouhette of the one he missed so much sitting next to him

But never quite there

"So he waited by the sunset tide
upon his stone in the countryside
for the girl he had once met
To whom he never paid the debt
And so with love to her he said
I truly wish t'was I instead
But that would matter not a'tall
because you twice would take my fall
So there he sat upon his stone
waiting there all alone
for the girl he met of once so young
in this place, of de Lione."