A Passerby By The Cove
Dig, dig, dig,
What a catchy phrase,
It is a phase,
When I gave time to pace,
I untie my lace,
Set time to race,
I cut to the chase,
To let my body move,
The sand I shove,
Grain by grain of quartz,
As if I'm wearing a Swatch,
I dampen my body,
With out of reach,
I am not a preacher,
But I know I'm on siege,
I'm not underage,
I turn money into sage,
I take my pledge,
I make it to the center stage,
But wait, I'm in a cage,
I need to go to college,
To turn a dime from a seawage.
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