beachfront hotel, twenty dollars a nightnnnineteen seventy-two, sun yellow and brightnntoo exhausted to think or to talknnyoung boys from bangledesh breakdancing on the sidewalknnand the waves will tear them all to piecesnnthe waves will tear them all to pieces.nnnntwinkling waterford crystal in the banquet hallnnchildlike religious paintings lining the wallnni will try to gather my strengthnnand i will rest up all weeknnall i can say to them now nnwhen i open my mouth to speaknnis that the waves will tear us all to piecesnnthe waves will tear us all to pieces.