Will circle your island 'til I find your bay. I'll crawl through the seaweed to knock on your door. Walk barefeet on the broken clam shells, mile after mile. It's cold and windy at the seaside. Yet here I am. I'll go and saddle the cannons, I'll round up the seals. We'll lay down your anger, so soft and neat. 'Cause there is only one word and it needs to be cried: I I I I'm sorry – for letting you down. I see so many seahorses. They all say the same thing; bow down your neck and wait, it's not too late, sing soft and sweet, honey drizzle if you dare, climb around that angry bear, charm him like a millionaire. Island man, take my tan, shake me around and drop me in your cocktail, dear.