Walk down to the ebbed out sea,
To smell the salt and rotting weed,
The sweetest air you'll ever breathe,
That takes you back to long days lost,
Of cricking in amongst the rocks,
Not knowing anything of death,
Ignore the rubbish blowing by,
The cigarrette butts in the sand,
The warning flag raised glaring red,
Just squint and view as when a kid,
With innocent eyes sorely missed.