When I meet you on the seashore,
Sometimes I’m the sand and you the sea.
My shoes weigh full of stones and grit,
You bob lightly on your teasing beta wave.
Then, the sun disappears.
The wind drops, stills and bows.
A guilty sky hangs motionless,
Trying to listen through the clouds.
You say I look like I’ve been rained on.
I say I feel quite dry.
When you offer me some water,
Your salt gets in my eyes, in my eyes.
'We are the salt of the earth,
On the seashore of time.
And I need you, my friend.
But if the salt loses savour,
And only stings what it defines,
where can it be salted, again?’
When I meet you on the seashore,
Sometimes I’m the sea and you the sand.
You build your castles and your moats,
While the moon pulls me far out into the surge.
Then I come back rushing in.
Your head shakes, then your head bows.
My swelling tide of passion’s,
Washed your castles to the ground.
I say you look like you’ve been rained on.
You say that you’ll soon dry.
When I offer you some water,
My salt gets in your eyes, in your eyes.
'We are the salt of the earth,
On the seashore of time.
And I need you, my friend.
But if the salt loses savour,
And only stings what it defines,
where can it be salted, again?’
