Oh, don't write
It's too soon
To say anything for sure
Oh, I'm right
I know for sure
I can feel my heart, I can feel the moon
My hair in the tide
Oh, don't sigh
It's not June
Still I'm green, wanton, true
Oh my
Western isles
I kick to them and I pull to you
My hair in the tide
So there are islands, I can see
Kisses blowing, wind, sun, trees
But there are islands under me
And dinosaurs beneath my feet
They're in the tide
Oh, don't sigh
It's still June
There's time to dive and visit dry lands, too
Oh my
Westing eyes
I kick to them and I pull to you
My hair in the tide
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