Resettlement they said, and a past was bled
As we left our lives and ancestors dead
The boats were tied, the nets were cast,
But a change was coming fast.
The government's call, the promise of more,
To leave behind the homes they swore,
For a better life, a brighter day,
But the cost, they'd come to pay.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
The houses floated on the sea, like ghosts in the mist,
To the distant towns they'd never wished,
To leave behind the rocky coast,
Where the ones before them made their boast.
But the schools were small, the roads were thin,
And the world outside came pressing in,
They left their land for a promised dream,
But the pain runs like a stream.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
In the new towns, they tried to grow,
But the roots they had refused to go,
The streets were paved, the houses new,
But something vital was missing too.
The laughter, songs, and stories told,
In the outports, they grew old,
But in the cities, they seemed to fade,
In the price that progress made.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
Now the outports stand so still, the waves of the past,
In the empty homes where the shadows cast,
But the spirit of those who lived there strong,
In the hearts of those who sing this song.
For the resettled, the displaced,
There's a memory that can't be erased,
Of the way it was before the tide,
Took them from their side.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
In the quiet of the night, the waves still sigh,
For the homes and hearts left behind to die,
But the stories live, they'll never be gone,
As long as we keep singing on.
The Moving Tide Video (MV)
Eh I By - The Moving Tide Lyrics
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English
Resettlement they said, and a past was bled
As we left our lives and ancestors dead
The boats were tied, the nets were cast,
But a change was coming fast.
The government's call, the promise of more,
To leave behind the homes they swore,
For a better life, a brighter day,
But the cost, they'd come to pay.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
The houses floated on the sea, like ghosts in the mist,
To the distant towns they'd never wished,
To leave behind the rocky coast,
Where the ones before them made their boast.
But the schools were small, the roads were thin,
And the world outside came pressing in,
They left their land for a promised dream,
But the pain runs like a stream.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
In the new towns, they tried to grow,
But the roots they had refused to go,
The streets were paved, the houses new,
But something vital was missing too.
The laughter, songs, and stories told,
In the outports, they grew old,
But in the cities, they seemed to fade,
In the price that progress made.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
Now the outports stand so still, the waves of the past,
In the empty homes where the shadows cast,
But the spirit of those who lived there strong,
In the hearts of those who sing this song.
For the resettled, the displaced,
There's a memory that can't be erased,
Of the way it was before the tide,
Took them from their side.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
In the quiet of the night, the waves still sigh,
For the homes and hearts left behind to die,
But the stories live, they'll never be gone,
As long as we keep singing on.
As we left our lives and ancestors dead
The boats were tied, the nets were cast,
But a change was coming fast.
The government's call, the promise of more,
To leave behind the homes they swore,
For a better life, a brighter day,
But the cost, they'd come to pay.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
The houses floated on the sea, like ghosts in the mist,
To the distant towns they'd never wished,
To leave behind the rocky coast,
Where the ones before them made their boast.
But the schools were small, the roads were thin,
And the world outside came pressing in,
They left their land for a promised dream,
But the pain runs like a stream.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
In the new towns, they tried to grow,
But the roots they had refused to go,
The streets were paved, the houses new,
But something vital was missing too.
The laughter, songs, and stories told,
In the outports, they grew old,
But in the cities, they seemed to fade,
In the price that progress made.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
Now the outports stand so still, the waves of the past,
In the empty homes where the shadows cast,
But the spirit of those who lived there strong,
In the hearts of those who sing this song.
For the resettled, the displaced,
There's a memory that can't be erased,
Of the way it was before the tide,
Took them from their side.
The moving tide, it swept them away,
From the places where their hearts would stay,
To the towns where the lights were bright,
But the memories haunt the night.
In the quiet of the night, the waves still sigh,
For the homes and hearts left behind to die,
But the stories live, they'll never be gone,
As long as we keep singing on.
Writer: Benjamin Sturge
Copyright: Lyrics © Too Lost LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Too Lost LLC