On solitary nights, the waves do kiss the shore.
Mother God is present, barefoot, turning sand to glass.
Quickly strangers rush there, shedding teardrops they once wore.
She then turns to see them, sweetly singing as they pass.
Oh quietly they whisper, so I can hear her name.
Her back is never to me, although shadows hide her face.
Bravely I approach her, head bowed to hide my shame.
Yearningly does kiss me, and empties my disgrace.
Dear Mother God did bless me, so faithfully I stay.
Remembering the nighttime, and the starlight that she wore.
Hearken that you hear her, beseech that you obey.
That you may dance there with her, where the waves do kiss the shore.