On the horizon, you can see all the boats
Shielding my eyes from the sun’s ancient glow

On water like glass my sorrow reflects
The mind of a man is a tough one to crack
Well, won’t you come home pure as Queen Anne?
I’ll no longer be just a thorn in the sand

I taste the gravel that the tide musters up
It buries my sandals and toes in the mud

These skeletons laugh when the sorrow will pass
The soul of a woman has a shell I can’t crack
Well, won’t you come home?
Will you be back pure as Queen Anne?
If I’m a thorn in the sand?

Lady Queen Anne
My rose in the sand