Are these the hands of a man? I suppose so.
I recall them shaking the hands of other men.
Now all they seem to do is write in this log book.
That's all they've done since I can't remember when.

And there's
No telling when
I'm going to be
Carried in.
But in my mind,
I see the land,
There's a footprint in the sand, and it's goind to be,

Mine...It's going to be,
Mine...It's going to be mine.

Is that a human face in the mirror?
It looks just like a piece of the sea.
I've been staring at the waves so very long now,
My eyes are playing tricks on me.

And there's
No telling when
I'm going to be
Carried in.
But in my mind,
I see the land,
There's a footprint in the sand, and it's goind to be,

Mine...It's going to be,
Mine...It's going to be mine.

I had a friend who said, "Don't read these papers,
The writing inside is always so small"
But in the end it was him who started shrinking,
In the end you couldn't see him at all.

And there's
No telling when
I'm going to be
Carried in.
But in my mind,
I see the land,
There's a footprint in the sand, and it's goind to be,

Mine...It's going to be,
Mine...It's going to be mine.