| Stings like sand on my feet
|
| I can hardly hear you over the
|
| Throbbing in the summer night heat
|
| Maybe if we weren’t sober
|
| Stings like sand on my feet
|
| I can hardly hear you over the
|
| Throbbing in the summer night heat
|
| Maybe if we weren’t sober
|
| This is my friend
|
| We haven’t met yet
|
| Take time to say that again
|
| I know it’s just in my head
|
| And Point Leo never had swell
|
| It’s the same now
|
| Not that I could surf anyway
|
| It was just something to talk about
|
| At last breaking through trees
|
| The morning burns truth through me
|
| And you said
|
| More than often I’m still
|
| With you, but just in my head
|
| And Point Leo never had swell
|
| It’s the same now
|
| Not that I could surf anyway
|
| It was just something to talk about
|
| Stings like sand on my feet
|
| I can hardly hear you over the
|
| Throbbing in the summer night heat
|
| Maybe if we weren’t sober
|
| Stings like sand on my feet
|
| I can hardly hear you over the
|
| Throbbing in the summer night heat
|
| Maybe if we weren’t sober
|
| Something to talk about
|
| It was just something to talk about
|
| Something to talk about
|
| It was just something to talk about |