I could be out there catching trout or dodging jellyfish,
and I wish I was out there
beyond the three mile limit where the shoreline is just a wavy haze in the distance,
I'm wasting time and ink stuck here in the 'smoke'

Looking at myself, looking at myself in the mirror and
I need a haircut, shutting my eyes and there's more form for me to see, nothing's 'normal' and it doesn't have to be, but at times everything is so normal it stifles me and I have this need to break free,
it's the sea and the pull, the rushing of shingle down the beach, the dunes that nearly reach the bottom of my heart, the smell of samphire and the desire which overrides my common sense
and then the lights go out.