there are twelve little pieces of my heart
each wrapped up in parcels of history
two blue eyes, one from my granddaddy
the other from my father
two hazel black rings around my iris
from my mothers deep strong heart
i have the colour of her freckles
the shape of her hands for making things
the way of her feet from walking
in the name of my grandmother
over long distances all in the sake of grace

i have the voice of my family name
in the absence of a father i wear it loud
redeeming something better, stronger, clearer
we landed on a western shore all of us strangers
scattered together by a skim of fate and chance
mothers and fathers all, brothers and sisters
from the northern lands with misfits acquired among us
black and brown and irish hues
my english blood a tinge of blue

i am pieces of history, northern sands and mills and things
small towns built on distant dreams and long ago tales of america
the distant shores of australia and all the darklands in between
i am pieces of history, riverside miner families
dark ginger hair and a whispered prayer for far off better days somewhere
the south and western coast a rugged, barren heartland start

there is a bloodline under my skin
that makes some sense of the mess of me
a line of trouble and a spring of hope
and under blue eyes something starts..

won't you walk with me
up the hill then down to the bay
one thousand steps and we will be ok
i spend my dollars and time all in the sake
of loving you, you are the love in my life
the shadows of the sun glancing on my cheeks
oh that you could take the hand offered to you
in the moment i could've loved you so well
and still stolen nothing from you

walk with me one thousand steps and a day
under sun and rain