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, that’s the signal of the storm cloud
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