One
Hear the sound of gentle waves
oh how I long to take a day.
Let me watch the ocean rumble low
and gaze on a seagull's play.
Two
Why do I still tarry?
What is it I fear?
What is it you make me?
What is drawing near?
Three
Then I'll bow my head and say
your will and not my way
Though I fear I'm far too late,
you alone my soul can sate.
You the potter, I the clay,
upon your order I shall wait.
Tale Told 