The Wave کے بول

The wave hits the beach Writing words on the sand To the academic man This could be the answer In fact, it's no more than a hunch Still we try to eat it I think we're all pretty out to lunch The wave is out of reach Trailing words from the hand Only air can understand Semaphore on the shoreline Waiting for distance to recede Unhappily imperfect When we should be happy just to breathe But with each bated breath So present, tense We want to know, we want it sure It don't make sense! So I'll do mine and you do yours But let's not trade sand and sea For brick and cement The wave hits the beach Laps around abandoned clothes Wants to share a joke with those Who'll brave the breakers Who'll break bread rather than pray While the definition-maker's Lost in the small print of the day The words are only pictures That the next wave wipes away