The rain pissed down on Leven's shores
The sane rain would rain on superstores
And set off car alarms in our street
Let's burn our clothes and hunt our meat

A day of skies, a day of feasts
We fell to bed, to grunt like beasts
We could live in your wee car
We could never go too far

A flash of sun between your thighs
A perfect black shape to protect my eyes
A swooping hawk, a dying tree
"Fuck me," says he, "fuck you," says she

If i'm a clown, then you're a mime
But I'm sure that we'd be friends in time
The selkie put her skin back on
And swam away, back to her own