And, after the flood, I woke to the wind.
I emptied my room; I packed all my things,
And I left without locking the door.
I walked from the house watching my feet
As they splashed in the puddles still filling the street.
I smiled, and I didn’t look back.
Morning comes now; the water’s shallow,
And colours are filling the sky.
I walked through the streets full of broken glass
As the larks built a nest in the hole in my hat,
And the ants made home in my shoes.
My legs felt like stone, and looked like stilts.
My teeth crunched, like I’d eaten a mouthful of sand.
Maybe from savage lands. Maybe from an English beach.
Morning comes now; the water's shallow,
And colours are filling the sky.
I remember paddling. I wish you did too.
I’m sorry that you fell, but I suppose that’s the way it
goes.
And on the outside of town I found an empty house.
I slowly walked in and sat on the couch,
And I cried at the couple dancing on the tv.
Morning comes now; the water's shallow,
And colours are filling the sky.