He sits there, with all the dread,
Wandering around, his cluttered head,
He would do best, to move again,
Far away from, these thoughts of pain.
I can no longer, speak for him,
For the thoughts he has, are grim.

The years roll by, this aged life of mine
with past emotions, in my soul entwine.

The tide, ever changing,
the smell of the Sea.
The view so remarkable,
it's calling to me,
to return to the place,
that is heaven to see.
The warmth of the water
is so comfortably,
that I must return
to the Islands, so free.

There go I, if it hadn't been for you.
For you helped me show what I could do.
The shy, retiring, bashful, young boy,
is now an adult with a lot of joy.
A joy that lives with me, I know not how.
Much thanks to you. I say that now.