Don't hold my hand across the sand Never had no father Showed me to water For you to drink Like that old thing Some are born To sweet the light And some are born To endless night
The skull, the old skull of Lucia With me, she will never see ya In the days or in the light
Like stars being born Or time being torn It could have all ended Right then and there And be ghosts in the morn The sea I wade And tried to fade Spat me aground Got found undrowned And so I stayed Dry but slightly torn and frayed The crown around her head it played And it spun made from the sun