| She never writes
|
| She’s much too busy with her phone
|
| And when you ask if she’s alone
|
| She says she must be stranded somewhere
|
| And she’s in her underwear
|
| And there’s a breeze and the evening is clear
|
| Now her signal’s breaking up
|
| Off the map where there’s a beach
|
| Like a language without literature
|
| Just out of reach
|
| Chaos definitely suits her
|
| She has wandered too far
|
| And now she declares
|
| She’s by a rockpool she can reach by a stair
|
| And the sky is like a sea creature
|
| Flung up into the air
|
| Or is it just the evening star?
|
| Limpid and blue
|
| She says she must be stranded somewhere
|
| So twitchy and vague
|
| There’s a breeze and the evening is clear
|
| Now her signal’s breaking up
|
| With the frequency of waves
|
| Atomic arrays
|
| She says she’s alone
|
| Like a language without literature
|
| Off the map where there’s a beach
|
| And she’s in her underwear
|
| Like a language without literature
|
| Limpid and blue, she has wandered too far
|
| (You do what you want to do and I’ll do what I want to do
|
| Time crawls slowly round the room when I, I make my entrance
|
| Eyes like headlights switch on you and I, I take my vengeance) |