Reposessed (Beaver)

Gone all the way over Gone to the other shore Like a mantra the waves Roll in and she listens To hear that eternal Sweet low repetition she says I? carefully booting My trail through the sand Crossing the dunes over repossessed land Gone, gone, gone all the way over Gone to the other shore While dead sharp I wait She says all these questions Are useless to ask Make one fine scrapcollection she says Floodgate of memories Comes to a hold Dead sharp I wait till the story unfolds Like a mantra the waves Roll in and she listens To hear that eternal Sweet low repetition