| On a morning in May
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| On a beach outside Monterrey
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| She walked alone in the sand
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| With her shoes in her hand
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| And let her mind go astray
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| He was a Santa Cruz-boy
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| He held his head up
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| With pride and joy
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| And he was riding the surf
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| To where the sea meets the turf
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| And every wave was his toy
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| And then he saw her and smiled
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| He never knew such a lovely child
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| With a curly brown hair
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| Flying loose in the air
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| Looking gentle and mild
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| She pretends to be shy
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| And makes a motion to passing by
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| He is handsome and strong
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| She doesn’t walk very long
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| Turns around and says «hi!»
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| And his name is Ramone
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| And her name is Angelica
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| What ever made them both reach
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| The same spot on the beach
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| Always will be unknown
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| There are stories that tell
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| That the tide has a magic swell
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| And that the hundred year pine
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| Has a secret divine
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| That is sung by a shell
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| And they smile and they know
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| 'Cause their young bodies
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| Tell them so
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| That they’re alone in the world
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| Unseen and unheard
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| For the feelings to show
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| So in the warm morning sun
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| While the sandpiper makes his run
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| They make a beautiful love
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| And the blue sky above
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| Blessed the day that begun
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| Two hearts that fly like a dove
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| As seagulls are circling above
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| Names that are carved in a stone:
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| Angelica and Ramone
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| And they smile and they know
|
| 'Cause their young bodies
|
| Tell them so
|
| That they’re alone in the world
|
| Unseen and unheard
|
| For the feelings to show
|
| So in the warm morning sun
|
| While the sandpiper makes his run
|
| They make a beautiful love
|
| And the blue sky above
|
| Blessed the day that begun
|
| They make a beautiful love
|
| And the blue sky above
|
| Blessed the day that begun. |