The sea will tenderly embrace,

And bury in its golden sands

while fishermen are casting fishing nets...

While fishermen are casting there a fishing line,

Our souls are catching here a rushing tide...

There is nowhere to hide -

Forgive me.

So late at night, we're laying in a puddle

Someone here needs the air and cuddle,

but touches are much less, than even subtle...

Forgive me.

Our clothes got water, we are stuck

We stuck so tight...

I think, the sun fell over,

And out of the sudden it is quiet,

We can't hear clocks and seagulls,

You are in sand as if in bronze,

I am not sure that it is legal..

But anyway, forgive me.

The sea will tenderly embrace,

Bury us in the golden sands...

Is it a chance?

Forgive me.