Footseps marching.
And the soft angel.
Voices singing to the sound of hundreds and thousands of lives.
All muted by a wave of the oceans fury.
Pack your bags.
Here we come.
Pack your bags here it comes.
To come and take you away.
There's an angel begging you to come to her.
I know the ocean took you by suprise but I don't worry.
Child it will be alright.
There's a message to the king.
It reads of disappointing numbers of the children who have come home to kiss his ring.
Tisk: