Inspired by the book The Strange Voyage of Donald Crowhurst, by Buddhist ideas of impermanence, and by reading the diaries of a friend’s sea voyage (NL).
Seven days or maybe nine
Groundless rumours, heavy wine
Foreign words in a foreign clime
This time yesterday, local time
Music in snatches, like rags on a tree
Barely remembered, only the sea
Sun is high and sun is white
Hanging fire and fading sight
Waking up as evening falls
Rolling floor and shifting walls
Roll with the punches, embrace the disease
Clinging to nothing, only the sea
Reaching out for solid ground
Ever hopeful, always drowned
Reading your diaries, looking for me
Maybe remembered, only the sea
© Norman Lamont 1987
Free mini-album!
Free to download - Stories My Killer Told Me: Five surreal story-songs from my Edinburgh Fringe show.
- I Am Not The One For You
- The Ever Open Door
- New Eyes
- A Forest Trail in Autumn
- The Portobello Slam
Just let me send you an occasional email!