The White Beast
Well you fall into the ocean from the tree
And you fall into the sorrow of the leaves
And you fall into the rhythm of me
And you fall into the hymn of the sea
And I I I I I
I feel you
I feel you coming
And I I I
I feel you
I feel you coming
And I I I
I feel you
I feel you coming
Well you listen to the old folks,
The old folks what do they say?
They talk about the white beast,
The beast of the north east
Well they say that I'm a hunter,
Well that's not what I see
I gather all the old ones when they call me
And they say I I I I I
I feel you
I feel you coming
And I I I I I
I feel you
I feel you coming
I I I feel you coming
