I'll hold your hands, until you hold mine Until they change to fins and slip out with the tide I'm straining sand on your barefoot, and your broad smile lit up With a golden shoreline Where did I lose all of that beauty? My judges are our dreams unfulfilled The gleam of solace, and pleasure of another's embrace, is the gift? Is the end of being tired? All memory places hide heartaches, in the grasses waving round me Where you never walk, that you'll never leave Fading light Of retreating torch Of retreating torch My heart’s rotten My heart is a rotten strawberry