In Night's cool breath, the moon striking dark sand
A man with a world waits
Stars see him there, winkin' because they know
He's rooted in the land
There he sits, wave watching
With a hand like harmony
And a voice like nostalgia
In Somewhere's dark, a celestial call
Awakening his soul
From Nowhere's park, a single resting stage
Urging him not to fall
His life tells not of lies and the phony
His tread that of one sure
The past is pleasant, sweet as the sand
The future is that in his hand
And there he sits, wave watching
With a hand like harmony
And a voice like nostalgia
