The Pier

*THE PIER* (produced by Marcos Lissandro) Down at the old pier, where the Atlantic rolls, There’s a story from the sea that still haunts our souls. A mermaid came ashore on a golden summer day, With silver hair and a haunting song to play. She sat upon the rocks, gazing out to sea, Singing to the moon, where no one else could be. But some young boys saw her as they walked along, And when they called her name, she vanished with the dawn. Oh, my mermaid, Where the Atlantic cries, You sailed away with the tide And never came back to shore. Oh, my mermaid, When the storm winds rise, I can still hear your voice in the wind, Calling out once more. No one knows for certain if she ever was real, Or just a dream that the night refused to conceal. But when the wind blows hard and the dark clouds start to roll, Her lonely song still echoes through the soul. Oh, my mermaid, Where the Atlantic cries, You sailed away with the tide And never came back to shore. Oh, my mermaid, When the storm winds rise, I can still hear your voice in the wind, Calling out once more. They say she lives Deep beneath the sea, Combing her silver hair, Waiting there for me. Oh, my mermaid, Where the Atlantic cries, You sailed away with the tide And never came back to shore. Oh, my mermaid, When the wild waves roar, Your song comes from the ocean, And I still think of you. Down at Cé Nimmo’s Pier... When the night comes down... Listen to the wind... She may still be singing... Somewhere beyond the shore. aisongmaker.io/ (geração mp3)