A word never spoken, a line never penned, a desire never expressed, a song never sung. It went out with a tide that never returned, on a journey that never ends with a boat that never shores to a place that is unknown. It is in time but yet to be. But some day it shall well be. Until then the paper boats that I set to sea, Will carry the stories of you and me. I will grow old and light as a breeze And when these distances are too much to bear I too shall call in a wave And ride to the sea. Rest your mind my dear friend We shall meet again at the very end For I have heard that all the rivers in this world Find their way to the Sea.