Edge of the World - Iona

Mist that hangs like silk

Soaking in the rain

Trees that rise like ghosts

Bearing people’s names

And a sea that takes me

Where I do not know

But I gladly go

Shrouded in the sweetest grass

I’ve ever known

This my earthly bed

My beloved home

But the voice that calls me

To the far away

I can only trust every word you say

And here I am

Out on the edge of the world

With You, With You

Shall I leave the print of my knees

Upon the sand

This my final prayer

In my native land

Shall I turn my face

Towards the shining sea

Taste the salt of tears

For those I have to leave