Waves roll in as I stand upon this ebb
winds play a sweet-bitter twinge upon my face My blood begins to churn Tall trees bend to the whims of nature
as I repel the waves' force to draw me in Gulls sing a song of ecstasy
maybe to this requiem I will become obscure There's a storm soon to fall upon my presence
...
When I hear my last bird sing
a warming sun perhaps, the
sweet smell of dew
A-due a-due the song bird sings
...