IÕm Moana.
My bones grew strong, with my roots in the land,
They were shaped by the hands of a man
But I came alive and my heart beat free
when my bones slid in the heaving sea.
IÕll sing you a song of the wind and the waves,
of the sigh of the deep, green ocean;
IÕll tell of the wake that I left in the sway
of the green and the blue and the grey
of the trail on the skin of the ocean.
IÕm Moana.