Cloudburst at Shingle Street, 2011

Or rather, Cloudburst at Jessie Alley, close enough.

Shouldn’t drainpipes evacuate water down below instead of up five feet in the air?

Like paid obfuscater Dr. Henry Lee from the O.J. Simpson case, I sense that “something’s wrong” here.

Click to expand

“When I was small I was in love

In love with everything

Now there’s only you”

We climb the cliffs
And hang from trees
Wrap the rocks and the beach
State of shock at flick of switch
(mindless) into the cloudburst overhead
I wanna get my face wet
Been buried in the sand for years
(headlong) into the cloudburst naked
There’s really no escaping it
There’s gonna be a cloudburst here.
Come out of your shell
And look at the sea
It may be just as well
You stayed here with me
Private hell at turn of a key
(blindly) into the cloudburst overhead
I wanna get my face wet
Been buried in these hands for years
(mindless) into the cloudburst naked
There’s really no escaping it
There’s gonna be a cloudburst here
And it’s dawning on me
I’ve been a cork in the ocean, been bobbing in the North Sea
Then take this vest of plaster, these boots of concrete
And make them down as surplus, return to Mulberry…
Cloudburst at Shingle Street
Cloudburst at Shingle Street
Cloudburst at Shingle Street
When I was small I was in love in love with everything
Now there’s only you

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