the gentle lapping of salty waves, break onto the shore,

The wave of change is coming fast-
into the tide contentment's cast
it's the only way to sail from past
to brightest futures; A risen mast...

and a seagull, somewhere, sings in F minor.

no human can ignore:
no matter race, religion, class,
that the waves propel us, or
drowns us beneath their mass.

The wave of change's tolling tide
has come again for us, we tried
to keep using whatever we
  contrived,
to surf  change's wave,
 wildly we ride.