I had been once before to St Malo
On my way to an industrial complex near Lille
We travelled on the ferry from Portsmouth
Me, with my practical, my technical colleague
What is on your mind
As you lean on, as you look over the sea wall
Across the narrow road from the cafe
Your body language says you are resigned
Are you beginning to despise me
With my bullish, brutish, yob-like ways
Have you fallen from love
Have I collapsed the scaffolding
Do you blame yourself, time after time
For not managing the rhythm method
Do you curse at the predicament
You found yourself in, once again
Are we halfway from the end
The end of whatever we had
Are the photographs I take
Only for a far away happiness
