http://www.showofhands.co.uk/
One November noon we left the docks
Heading south west from Orcombe rocks
My dad and me, our nine to five
He used to steer I used to dive
So over the side I slowly went down
A hundred below the seawater brown
But after an hour I got low on air
When I surfaced again his boat wasnât there
My marker buoy had come untied
And drifted away his boat at its side
He looked at his watch three miles to the south
And turned back again his heart in his mouth
Soft rain on my face the sun nearly set
I cut loose the weights let fall the nets
Lights onshore, so bright and clear
The cold drifting in and nobody near
Was there ever a reel, a rod or a line
So strong and true, so straight or fine
The tie that wound him, through time and space
He came out the darkness right to that place
Now we donât talk much, about that day
Got two kids of my own now and one on the way
But if theyâre to grow, and if theyâre to thrive
One day theyâll go, one day theyâll dive
And when they come up for light and air
I hope someoneâs close I hope someoneâs there
Itâs November noon weâre leaving the docks
My son and me from Orcombe rocks
Letâs dive, letâs dive