I want to go where the water meets the land.

There is a balance there.

There is no sound like that which sand and lapping water share.

I do not want to be barred in an arid land,

Nor do I want to drown in Davy’s locks.

I want neither dust nor salt

I want to go where the water meets the land.

I want to go where the water meets the land,

There is a balance there.

There is no land like soft sand that you can sift through your fingers

and scoop up in your hands.

The sand at this gate believes it is water;

Watch it move with each wave

Like the ocean is a potter

And the sand is his clay.

I want to watch the sea’s work every day.

I want to go where the water meets the land.