Thanksgiving Song - Grouper

I was unfinished, unclaimed

He sees me, I remember well

But he can’t

That was nice

A distance of mine

I let it slide, I let it slide

Run and face, so different

A face appeared

I launch and I turn around

Touch, it’s nice to touch her

We’re the dust we see

Dust behind us

Nothing here, we are ungraced

All alone in the sea