Down on the beach
The wind sings, desperately
Alternate the high notes with the low
Love isn't meant for prodigals or kings
Love's not a race, a phantom or a show

Down on the beach, the currents alter pace
Gather and fling the fabric onto shore
Love isn't meant to alter every trace
Nothing to feel, and nothing to live more

Where can I find another pile of tweed
Fit to replace the mind I left behind?
Leave it to me and do not feel the reed.....
Man is a mouse afloat upon the tide.

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