nigelsmart

By nigelsmart

Sun is out and the British head for the beach

Come sleep on the beach
Keep within my reach
I just want to die with you near
I'm feeling so high with you here.
I'm wet and I'm cold
But thank God I ain't old
I should have split home at fifteen
Why didn't I ever say what I mean?
There's a story that the grass is so green,
What did I see?
Where have I been?

Nothing is planned, by the sea and the sand

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