When again these sands are beds,
When these sands are beds again,
Once then found by hands and legs,
Once then formed by heads and limbs,
By then will things condemned begin,
To find revenge in flames and wind,
To make amends by violence,
The judgements of defenseless men.

She has said that she believes,
In kinds of modern prophecy,
But all she wants is to fall asleep,
On a bed of sand on a distant beach,
She has said that she has seen,
A vision in a restless dream,
She has said (and I agree),
That this is not the place to be.

Say goodbye to me my friend,
I leave you as the evening ends,
Say goodbye to me my love,
I leave you as the morning comes,
If this is not a plague my dear,
I will return within a year,
And if in time I don't appear,
I'll be the wind inside your hair.

When again these sands are beds,
When these sands are beds again,
Once then found by hands and legs,
Once then formed by heads and and limbs,
The sea will sooth the wounds of them,
Who's salt will be their medecine,
And fruit will drop from trees that bend,
When these sands are beds again.