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She drives a pick-up truck; he sails a boat.
He keeps a weather eye; she makes a note
of all the times he leaves her to sail the sea,
and how she longs for company.

She tends her garden in the winter time;
he steers a southern course for warmer climes;
eyes on horizon as his compass points the way,
his marriage in total disarray.

She wants to stay; he wants to leave and sail away.
She wants a home; he wants his freedom.
He wants a life; she wants to be a loving wife.
He wants to sail across the shipping lanes to freedom.

There's oil and water in the mixing bowl,
a dark nigredo deep inside her soul;
a realisation and a painful lesson learned,
with almost all her bridges burned.

Now he's withdrawing from her day by day;
he's fitting out the boat to sail away
to far horizons and a new-found promised land,
while all she wants: to hold his hand...

She wants to stay; he wants to leave and sail away.
She wants a home; he wants his freedom.
He wants a life; she wants to be a loving wife.
He wants to sail across the shipping lanes to freedom.

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