Nautical Things

In the morning, I'm alive, she is the tide that cleanses my mind.
I'm the light off the shore, where the waves they get choppy time to time.
There is a wall in between, with an invisible seam.
It's an impossible wait if you rely on fate,
so it's a push that you need, and the tide must receed.
No stone will be saved when I build the great wave.
(I hear the siren lost at see, and she's calling to me.)

Fall into the blue of your eyes.