pirms es sāku klausīties Shearwater, nekad nebiju iedomājusies, ka skumjas ir iespējams pārvērst tik ļoti skaistā mūzikā

the hollow light
is still on the fields
where the winter has warmed
and the snows have drained away
and the hunter's cry
is still on the air
as the bullet flies home
but the heart that's pierced with it
still is racing
still is racing, alone

/Leviathan bound