A Ring Around the Atlantic (round two)

Hey, I’m always combing, combing Lumley Beach
For abalones, artifacts and more
And I watch the tides the way I’ve watched your mood swing
And their constance is comfort on the shore.

I’m living a ring around the Atlantic – in rounds
You’re living a life that’s too erratic – to be sound.
And you ask me, “Are there ever second chances - for two?”
Certainly, for those who do not mind to take a few.

Hey, I’m like always culling, culling the Chesapeake
For taffy & shark teeth & things
I should have seen you long ago in the sea
In the secrets low tide reveals and the gifts high tide brings.

Good tidings, I’m a ring around the Atlantic, and we are bound
To intersect, it’s a matter of mathematics, we’ll be found.
Every person is a song who waits to be written – written down
And you’ve waited long for this duet because your judgment was never sound.

In the second round…

Are there ever, are there ever second chances in this life?
Certainly, for those who come out to the coast another night.
Every person is a song who waits to be written; written down
Wait a bit longer for the cota. I’ll come back around.

In the second round...