Steady as the stars in the woods
And the warmth rang true inside these bones
As the old pine fell we sang
Just to bless the morning.
Hot sand on toes, cold sand in sleeping bags,
I've come to know the friends around you
Are all you'll always have
Smoke in my lungs, or the echoed stone
Careless and young, free as the birds that fly
With weightless souls now.
- Ben Howard, Old Pine