The evening is an ocean wave,
The seashells warm to sigh,
She dreams to drifters,
And caresses by the shore,

The evenings are sweet,
Shes dancing on the shore,

Saturday is its own year,
She dreams,
To the Crescents ear,

And she dances the salsa,
To the honey tune,
Of iris waves,

The evenings are sweet,
Shes dancing on your shore,
She dreams to drifters,
And caresses by the shore,

We gaze to the Champagne sky,
With the harbor butterflies,
And the seashells warm to sigh,
She dreams to drifters,
And caresses by the shore,

Her salsa is fine,
Her salsa is fine,
Her salsa is fine
Reynaldo Casison