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Axis Of
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Beachcombing
We got up at 6, Wrapped up good and warm, Grilled the tide table, We're the benefactors of the storm.
Put a little wheaten bread in the knapsack, Memorising images of Wrights and Black Backs, Told my friends I recognise the danger of sea stacks, Navigating Marrum with incredible form.
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com The antithesis of certain schools of thought, that we try to bludgeon. As a child that's fascinated by the Gulf Stream, I worry we're ignoring; not debating.
Dad jumped in the surf, Checked what it was worth, Tied a length of wire but wasn't arriving, Rushing back to talk about the power of surviving.
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