Southernmost - The Lucksmiths

Weekends away:

These were the happiest days

Ill with 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

Their 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

There’s only one way to find out…

Take heart

Take a train

To the coast

Take heart

Take a train

Southernmost

Take heart