Comments Off | Posted: March 31st, 2004 | Filed under: Uncategorized

Tonight, from a room only Dickens could love

Wearing moth-eaten sweaters and gloves

We will open the window and feel an on-shore wind

A-blowing in

Grab our boards from the back of our van

Paddle out ’til we can’t see the sand

Spin around and drop into the wave we hope will never end

Somewhere there is hope

Somewhere there are dreams

Far from everything

Let’s go surfing, babe

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