Up on the East Coast, a fog cast in bluish gray
The waves tinted emerald on the foam-licked bay

I danced with him on the Long Island shore
Till I was dizzy and he was sore
And when beams of light ricocheted off water, we laughed
My hips swinging in time with radiant craft

Swaying to the sound,  I've got nothing to lose
Our fingers entwined
I like how you move