| On the banks of a sunset beach
|
| Messages scratched in sand
|
| Beneath a roaming home of stars
|
| Young boys try their hand
|
| A spanish harbouring of sorts
|
| In Catalonian bars
|
| They were pulled from a sinking ship
|
| And saved for last
|
| On the waterfront the rain
|
| Is pouring in my heart
|
| Here the memories come in waves
|
| Raking in the lost and found of years
|
| And though I’d like to laugh
|
| At all the things that led me on
|
| Somehow the stigma still remains
|
| Watch the train steam full ahead
|
| As it takes the bend
|
| Empty carriages lose their tracks
|
| And tumble to their end
|
| So the world shrinks drop by drop
|
| As the wine goes to your head
|
| Swollen angels point and laugh
|
| «This time your god is dead»
|
| On the waterfront the rain
|
| Is pouring in my heart
|
| Here the memories come in waves
|
| Raking in the lost and found of years
|
| And though I’d like to laugh
|
| At all the things that led me on
|
| Somehow the stigma still remains
|
| Is our love strong enough? |