This world has gathered vines

Strong and luscious wines

With movements satisfied

With our paws in the ocean

Crowds would gather on the traces of the outer rings

We feel the wait is through

I don't feel anything

This place is failing my thin ties to settled ground

Stands moving, dying wind

The cruel end will stare him down

A stone that you would hold

We can't hear, it doesn't ring

My hand just passes through

I don't feel anything