Ransom Notes

There was a time When the mountains kept their place They stood in line And they waited back the gaze No one could see No terrain now is a rock No feet could find Near the heart of old road bluff The hills are worn The place about growing pains The earths are closed The mountains had their way The kids have grown And they watched it from above Now I'm alone And I see no way to run We float on the breeze We are held to a ransom We are bones on the riffs Waiting for the waves, the waves We float on the breeze We are held to a ransom We are bones on the riffs Waiting for the waves, the waves We float... We are bones We float on the breeze We are held to a ransom We are bones on the riffs Waiting for the waves, the waves...