Lyrics: After the Love at Victoria Street, by Boyd Warren Chubbs

There’s a warm hand upon my head
This land and sea have given a hand to spread upon my head tonight
and I go down to the water to rock and sing of plentiful and certain things:
the rapid malt of spring and brooks;
trees that shook themselves furious;
curious phantoms upon the rain path;
lain passages of bone and earth;
birth of sundogs and lavender;
fogs more delicate than breath;
sweat from laughter and the spark and fire;
a beautiful liar tender among thieves;
sleeves of light climbing the berry hills;
sills handsome with paint and lace;
a trace of raw sienna in the swimming tickle;
a brace of storms, sermons upon the walking, talking trees, and all around, the fossil barrens, cairns above home; the purple-grey stone staring; foam with its clothes, rolling the near shore
and a door thinning where, in a mesh of voice and strings, love goes.