The Fresh Island Breeze
I sniff and smell the fresh breeze
I wonder around waiting for that sprit
But it seems that the joy will end up in my soul.
I smell the breeze, it smell so fresh like the island fruits.
It dark, and the air is filled with fire
We gather to sing and dance, to let our joy out of our soul.
We ran and play in the warm and hot sand
But it the end of the day I stand and smell that fresh island breeze.