Out Of The Sinking

A magnetic force draws me back to him again. Will he still be there? Will he look the same? I find him, slowly but surely submerging.
Standing above him I smile down upon his sandy face.
Still, I daren't touch him.
What's that? I hear him say something. No, he's singing something, softly.

''Hey baby do, just what you're thinking,
 know I know it, yeah, if I'm sinking,
 know I feel it, I know you feel it too
 across the water, there's a boat that
 will take us away.''

Can my clown really be singing to me?
I know all things are possible if we believe in them.

I saw the boat when I cycled up to the Coastguard Station last week. The call to prayer began just as I got off my bike. Feeling peaceful, I sat down on the hard, shell-strewn sand. A warm breeze blew from the south, gently caressing the sea. It etched the surface, drawing fine black wrinkles across its aquamarine beauty.
I could easily return there, wade out into the shallows and untether the boat. I would have to get him first though. Carefully, gently pick him up, bring him home and put him on a delicates wash in the machine. I could hang him on the washing line to dry overnight. The next day we could make our way to the boat together, ''out of the sadness, far from the madness, into sunlight, out of the sinking,'' and escape.



Lyrics are taken from Out Of The Sinking by Paul Weller, off his brilliant Stanley Road (1995) album.