Brighton

Wouldn’t it be fun to end it all, up in Brighton?
Never take the train back home
Never wait for you for hours at the station
Slowly guessing you would finally not come
Wasn’t it much nicer when we took boats
We had time to think, then, sliding on the water
It’s hard to realise the sea is shallow there
We would sail our hearts up until they broke against the shore
Wouldn’t it be fun to end it all, up in Brighton?
Here exactly where I don’t belong
I can feel the privilege of being a stranger
Ignoring all the dramas that shaped this town
End a life in the Marina, start over on Saint-James
And talk all night of battered things and rock widows
Gazing at the forming clouds, it suddenly gets dark
A mighty cathedral above the amusement park