Down to the Waterline (Live at the BBC)

Sweet surrender on the quayside

You remember, we used to run and hide

In the shadow of the cargoes I'll take you one time

And we're counting all the numbers down to the waterline

Where the near misses on the dogleap stairways

French kisses in the darkened doorways

Foghorn blowing out wild and cold

A policeman shines a light upon my shoulder

Up comes a coaster fast and silent in the night

Over my shoulder all you can see are the pilot lights

No money in our jackets and our jeans are torn

Your hands are cold but your lips are warm

She can see him on the jetty where they used to meet

She can feel him in the places where the sailors go

When she's walking by the river on the railway line

She can still hear him whisper, Let's go down to the waterline

Come on, now, yeah