She makes her home,
She lives alone
By the seaside.
Her fingers comb
She folds the foam
By the seaside.
She sits and sways
She makes her way
To your insides.
She lives alone
By the seaside.
Her fingers comb
She folds the foam
By the seaside.
She sits and sways
She makes her way
To your insides.
What losses her choices.
The years pass
Her longing ebbs and flows.
Her whole life a slow slide
Caught in the undertow
Of the night tide.
Her ear's soft cone,
Rosettes of folds
Like a seashell.
Her timid hands
Smooth out the sand
Where the sea swells.
Her tiny sighs
Cut through the night
Like a buoy bell.
What losses her choices.
The years pass
Her longing ebbs and flows.
Her whole life a slow slide
Caught in the undertow
Of the night tide.
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