B.. Alexander ('81)

Always the Esk on these dim evenings
There is snow falling on the cliff above my street
The cobbles disappearing now under this virgin carpet
But always to the Esk
And following the flow
Out of the bay my eyes will go
Aboard a boat, a sailing boat
Crossing the horizon towards that moon

Henrietta Street by lamp light
So cold upon the stepping out
So cold upon the stride
And turning right and down to the pier
I'll walk tonight in the chalk-white light of the moon
And always the Esk, it's whispering to me
And always the sea, on to the sea

Nothing so lovely, so lonely as this
Nowhere so homely, so close to me, as this
But where are you...
Where are you...

A man can fight for what he wants
What he thinks he wants
A man can fight himself all he wants
For what he thinks he wants
And a man might win, who could stop him
But man must live with what he fought for
What he was sure he wanted for

And always the Esk
It was always the Esk
That would come calling me back
Always this sea
That was a magnet to me
And as a man I fought myself
And as a man I let myself win
And as a man now I'm suffering
And as a man I must live
With what I wanted live with

Again, in the snow, downwards I go
Cobbles and stones and ramp to the pier
And pier and wooden boards, to the light
There at the light
Night after night
The man that I am must stand there and want
The man that I am must stand here in thought
For all that I fought myself to give up
All that I broke myself into two to let go
Here by the light
Night after night after night

(2008)