The waves in my ocean are so curl-free
Whirling into the bay
With a sprig of laurel hold out your hand
Time moves faster than waves
Tuesday is Monday, son
Out on the ocean, oh to be curl-free
Might be high for a while
Sheep in a field beside a for sale sign
Might be here for a while
Tuesday is Monday, son
No more bluey bounce the [?] of the storm cloud