From the shore
I can see the sails
But they never return to the bay
And quietly, I wish
Why can't it be me?

This island is empty
The sand is dead
Nothing can grow
Nothing can survive
Why have [bad word] here
To this lost zone of sediments
eroded from time?

From the shore
I can see their bodies
Succumbed to hope
Adrift within plain sight
Below the unsetting dead sun
And quietly, I wish
Why can't it be me?