I can smell the ocean, although seventy miles away
Something in this warm scent the air creates embraces my lungs and it takes all my breath from me
I'd walk to the nearest seaside if you'd endure the trek on your blistered feet with me
The distance could never matter

I feel a forgotten feeling that starts in the top of my skull and ends in the tips of my toes
A feeling that zips through my heart like a runway train who has flown off the track so fast that no one even saw it coming

A talented sailor has made shelter in my gut and spends all his days tying complicated knots that my fumble fingers could never hope to untangle
I think he said his name was Jerry
I don't care much for Jerry

The lines on my face all created by smoke tell a story by the letters that my voice tries to choke
But I could never have the perfect words escape from  throat
Because there are no words as perfect as you are