I remember the seaside, with its light-coloured fins. They had a hospitality soul, it wasn't made to make us cry. Naive, while they were beautiful, we could read in their brunette That they wanted to practise sport, to keep a beautiful body line. And again, and again, they could have danced the java. The girls from the seaside were great. It was great for those who knew how to do it. There was one called Eve, she was really the girl of my dreams. She only had one flaw, she didn't bathe as much as she should. Instead of going to my sister's, she invited the first swimmer To touch the side of her heart, softly, softly. Softly and deeply. The girls from the seaside were great. It was great for those who knew how to do it. Forgiving her this mania, I offered to share my life with her. But as summer came back, I started to worry. Because on the shores of the North Sea, she started to practise sport again. I tolerated this crazy violin, or else she would become clever. Then one day I got sick of it. It was worse than the sea to drink. I gave her a jug and I swam to other waters, softly, softly. The girls from the seaside were great. It was great for those who knew how to do it. The girls from the seaside were great. It was great for those who knew how to do it. www.mooji.org