Above the Ocean

By the sea, down the old road, the winding lane

I love to see the seagulls fly and sing the sweet refrain

Beneath the bows of trees that twist and twirl and carry on

I love to hear the branches read the epitaphs of time long gone

Though the sand may wash away the things that people do

It can return to open sea, where it was born into

So, after many years of traveling the world around

It may return to see the beach it left, the sandy ground

Below the surface, whirling tides may ebb and flow and move

Stronger than the hands of Men, which tear at every earthly groove