| On a morning in May | 
| On a beach outside Monterrey | 
| She walked alone in the sand | 
| With her shoes in her hand | 
| And let her mind go astray | 
| He was a Santa Cruz-boy | 
| He held his head up | 
| With pride and joy | 
| And he was riding the surf | 
| To where the sea meets the turf | 
| And every wave was his toy | 
| And then he saw her and smiled | 
| He never knew such a lovely child | 
| With a curly brown hair | 
| Flying loose in the air | 
| Looking gentle and mild | 
| She pretends to be shy | 
| And makes a motion to passing by | 
| He is handsome and strong | 
| She doesn’t walk very long | 
| Turns around and says «hi!» | 
| And his name is Ramone | 
| And her name is Angelica | 
| What ever made them both reach | 
| The same spot on the beach | 
| Always will be unknown | 
| There are stories that tell | 
| That the tide has a magic swell | 
| And that the hundred year pine | 
| Has a secret divine | 
| That is sung by a shell | 
| And they smile and they know | 
| 'Cause their young bodies | 
| Tell them so | 
| That they’re alone in the world | 
| Unseen and unheard | 
| For the feelings to show | 
| So in the warm morning sun | 
| While the sandpiper makes his run | 
| They make a beautiful love | 
| And the blue sky above | 
| Blessed the day that begun | 
| Two hearts that fly like a dove | 
| As seagulls are circling above | 
| Names that are carved in a stone: | 
| Angelica and Ramone | 
| And they smile and they know | 
| 'Cause their young bodies | 
| Tell them so | 
| That they’re alone in the world | 
| Unseen and unheard | 
| For the feelings to show | 
| So in the warm morning sun | 
| While the sandpiper makes his run | 
| They make a beautiful love | 
| And the blue sky above | 
| Blessed the day that begun | 
| They make a beautiful love | 
| And the blue sky above | 
| Blessed the day that begun. |