| Turquoise is the sea-rolling deep, beneath the sky far above
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| whitewinged are the gulls, paper sailing on the wings of the wind
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| tomorrow is a word that never comes
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| when the world is far behind you, and the sea is turned to gold
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| the sky is filled with white pillow clouds
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| Picture in your mind a world where you can wake and be alone
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| listen to the murmur of the water on the sand and you will know that time is
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| never really on your side,
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| when you stop and look about you,
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| Than you’ll find you’re left behind
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| nothing but the sea and the sand
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| Paintings of the clouds,
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| have put a veil across the hillside filled with rain
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| the sea rolls like lead upon the sand lying dead along the shore
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| tomorrow is a word that never comes,
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| when the tide runs behind you, and your footsteps float away
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| nothing but the sea and the sand,
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| nothing but the sea and the sand |