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lyrics
A group had gathered at the south tip because it was Friday
Some carried fruit, and some carried knives
The moon lit the south tip like a disco
And the dance began
Those who could not, complained of the music
They cut fruit and over-drank
They tried not to worry and drank
A family had ashes in a coffee tin
The wind took them off the tip and into the sea
A teenaged boy said "Hello"
She couldn't see who it was
But it didn't matter, because they had not met
"Hello you!" and they laughed
They shared a cigarette with bug in it
She said "I feel like a balloon"
He said "I feel like a big tree
And I hope you get tangled"
An old person found them
He sent them back to the group
The past looked down at the south tip and smiled
The past was the moon
The moon had rarely missed a Friday
The past stretched out like a tall smoker lying down
It knew the end because it saw the beginning
And found the in-betweens peaceful
Down at the south tip, a baby was born
Not at the disco, a nearby house
But it could hear the drum
Some nights are longer than others
But the dawn comes
And still no wisdom, at least not tonight
But even those that wake up on the bank of the south tip
Like the boy and the girl
Saw, instead of were told
She cried when he said he must travel
He tried to wipe her tears
She thanked him, but insisted on using her own hand
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