Lyric

We are made of sea and sand

Of pure, white foam that overflows

From the cracks of these dark rocks

When the wave breaks and disarrays them

We are flashes of brief thought

We are fleeting footprints on the shore

We are nothingness at the mercy of the tide

That grabs us and drags us adrift

We are the mirage at the edge of the world

With the sea remaining in the background

The sea does not ask you and does not bend

It is the horizon that has no boundary

Because it is liquid and profound thought

Because it has no beginning, and no end

Water that calls to water, by reflection

The sea feeds on itself

(On itself)

The boats move away from the port

Time leaves rips in the sails

Barges packed with sacks and bulk

Left to dry on canvases

I sit here, on this ancient rock

Distracted by the voices of the seagulls

Among stones smoothed by the waves

And the uncertain promises of tomorrow

I was born here, and I will die on the sea

For this is a harsh and dishonest land

Crushed between a past still unfolding

And the curses of those who remain

The sea does not ask you and does not bend

It is the horizon that has no boundary

Because it is liquid and profound thought

Because there is no beginning, and no end

Water that calls to water, by reflection

The sea feeds on itself

Worn, salt-soaked wood

And abandoned ropes on the beach

The sea has kept its promise

Of a wandering, gypsy, and wild life