Slowly they go,
but there’s fault lines for Madeline,
on a journey from school but she looks like she may fly,
more to this than a will to explore,
‘please don’t go, you won’t make it, I’m sure.’

The sun sets, the earth shakes now,
I feel miles to go,
warm ground, tread lightly,
I don't want you to go.

Well, their mothers say they’ll live to see another day,
and they paint in lines a new portrait of Madeline.
And in painted red,
a sign that says ‘my daughter’s dead’,
my earthquakes, she said, are coming down.

Wake up.

Playing by rule,
she had, guidelines from old times,
down roman roads like she’s fighting for Cataline,
so alone; but its good for the soul.
‘Come Seacoal, we have miles to go.’

The sun sets, the earth shakes now,
I feel miles to go,
warm ground, tread lightly,
I don't want you to go.

And their mothers say they’ll live to see another day,
and they paint in lines a new portrait of Madeline.
And in painted red,
a sign that says ‘my daughter’s dead’,
my earthquakes, she said, are coming down.

Her expectations were getting her down,
when all that she wanted was home in the ground,
when tears start to drop on her dreams for the day,
the earth seems to open and drag her away.
When she falls down the hole,
there’s a big role/ll for Seacoal,
as they fly in the air,
and she grasps what she can’t hold.
In her bag there were letters for home;
‘it’s my plan to throw myself down a hole.’

Well, their mothers say they’ll live to see another day,
and they paint in lines a new portrait of Madeline.
And in painted red,
a sign that says ‘my daughter’s dead’,
my earthquakes, she said, are coming down.