The sea will tenderly embrace, And bury in its golden sands while fishermen are casting fishing nets... While fishermen are casting there a fishing line, Our souls are catching here a rushing tide... There is nowhere to hide - Forgive me. So late at night, we're laying in a puddle Someone here needs the air and cuddle, but touches are much less, than even subtle... Forgive me. Our clothes got water, we are stuck We stuck so tight... I think, the sun fell over, And out of the sudden it is quiet, We can't hear clocks and seagulls, You are in sand as if in bronze, I am not sure that it is legal.. But anyway, forgive me. The sea will tenderly embrace, Bury us in the golden sands... Is it a chance? Forgive me.