Patience is running out of me.
I call when I think you are free,
even though I’m falling out to sea.
Oh what a week it will be.
Because when everything’s set in stone,
and I find myself all alone,
there’s not much I can do,
but go home…
Wind is blowing over me.
I wait in this place to see,
if you’ll come out to sea,
if you’ll come after me.
Because when everything’s set in stone,
and I find myself all alone,
there’s not much I can do,
but go home…
And one night, I’ll make it home from the sea.
And one night, I’ll find myself well enough to sleep.
And every night, from then and there,
you’ll be in every dream, every dream.
And one night, I’ll make it home from the sea.
And one night, I’ll find myself well enough to sleep.
And every night, from then and there,
you’ll be in every dream, every dream.
But when everything’s set in stone,
I know I’m all alone,
so there’s not much I can do,
but to just go home,
go home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem