Southernmost

Weekends away:

These were the happiest days

Ill with the thrill of the chase

They'd take a train

Take off Friday for the coast

In summer they'd go southernmost

Where the sky was swimming-pool blue

And the swimming pool was too



And every single weekend

They'd dive in at the deep end

And come Monday morning

His skin still smelled like chlorine



Remember when forever seemed just fine?

Seen through glasses of rose coloured wine

They'd sit up all night talking

Now she's sound asleep to the sound of his walkman



And every single weekend

The divide between them deepens

A curse across the kitchen

He might still be within spitting distance

But there's only one way to find out...



Take heart

Take a train to the coast

Take heart

Take a train southernmost

Take heart