Lucy Spraggan. Lighthouse

I found a map and it broke my heart
I didn’t know that I’d ever go this far
With a compass point driving ink into my arm
The father, son and the holy ghost
Don’t talk too much, never been that close
Pouring spirits while I follow the Northern star

And as the birds fly south
I’ve been missing a small house
That holds all my words in precious store
I found your message at the bottom of a bottle