Last spring on the fishing docks
I made a new friend
She is seven and she walks
Barefoot on the sand
I am always by her side
Finding on the shore
Treasures brought up by the tide
All for her and more
But whenever I don't understand her
I write her name in the sand with a feather
She has tons of nursery rhymes
Floating in her head
Which, for me, she'll sing sometimes
Or she'll draw instead
She has pretty eyes of green
She's a trickster too
The reddest hair you've ever seen
I like her, I do
But whenever I don't understand her
I write her name in the sand with a feather

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