I scan the horizon for you, Mimi
|
I scan for the both of us
|
I scan the horizon for you, Mimi
|
I stand and scan on the strand of sand
|
stand and scan on the strand of sand
|
|
but first I'm sitting over here
|
see that gaggle of guys and girls
|
a typical day at the beach
|
well, typical 'til I make my speech
|
|
there is a girl out on the sea
|
floating on a pink surfboard
|
with a picnic lunch and parasol
|
sitting there like a typical girl
|
|
this is not a locker room
|
and that's a surfboard --- not a yacht
|
the arrangement's not --- quite --- quite there
|
|
one girl laughs at skinny guys
|
someone else points out a queer
|
they're all jocks --- both guys and girls
|
press the button --- take your cue
|
|
and see the girl with perfect teeth
|
she picks up lonely guys in bars
|
then she takes off when they've bought her drinks
|
don't you have money? I ask
|
of course I do...
|
|
this is not a locker room
|
and that's a surfboard --- not a yacht
|
the arrangement's not --- quite --- quite there
|
|
but the day was faultless in beauty
|
pitched on tropical scenery
|
stretched from white sand
|
up to the open sky
|
down to the shining sea again
|
and then back to me
|
and Mimi on the beach
|
Mimi on the beach
|
Mimi and me...
|
|
I'm still sitting over there
|
one guy just got up and brayed
|
they wag their words --- they're all in heat
|
I can ignore it --- just don't steam up the view
|
|
Mimi's still out on the sea
|
floating on a pink surfboard
|
she's checking out her arms and legs
|
in case her casing's getting burnt
|
|
this is not a locker room
|
and that's a surfboard --- not a yacht
|
the arrangement's not --- quite --- quite there
|
|
but the day was faultless in beauty
|
pitched on tropical scenery
|
stretched from white sand
|
up to the open sky
|
down to the shining sea again
|
and then back to me
|
and Mimi on the beach
|
Mimi on the beach
|
Mimi and me...
|
|
you don't know me but I've been watching you all day
|
and I've come to the edge of the water now to have my say
|
the picnic lunch is off
|
throw your parasol away
|
put your belly to the board, Mimi, and paddle out to sea
|
then turn the board around, Mimi, until you're facing me
|
then you wait for the waves to start building
|
for the valleys to deepen
|
and the mountains to increase in height
|
and when the right times comes, Mimi
|
you grab the edges of the board with your hands
|
lift yourself up and stand there
|
and see as fasr as you can see
|
stand up, Mimi
|
STAND UP
|
|
I scan the horizon for you, Mimi
|
I scan for the both of us
|
I scan the horizon for you, Mimi
|
I stand and scan on the strand of sand
|
stand and scan on the strand of sand
|
|
the great leveller is coming
|
and he's not going to stop to take your pulse
|
and he's not going to ask you why you're the way you are
|
and I think that's the worst part
|
you never get a chance to explain yourself
|
and he's going to take those mountains
|
and shove them into the valleys
|
until there's nothing left except a vast expanse
|
and you'll float there, Mimi
|
on the flat Sargasso Sea of your soul
|
and if they pull you away from your bleaching pink surfboard
|
and stretch you across the wind
|
you'll make no sound
|
wet leaves on a dry map
|
nothing, nobody
|
the great leveller or the great escape?
|
|
but the day was faultless in beauty
|
pitched on tropical scenery
|
stretched from white sand
|
up to the open sky
|
down to the shining sea again
|
and then back to me
|
and Mimi on the beach
|
Mimi on the beach
|
Mimi and me...
|
|
there is a girl out on the sea
|
floating on a pink surfboard
|
a parasol floats nearby
|
the arrangement's not --- quite --- quite there
|
|
-----------------
|
Mimi On The Beach
|
| Jane Siberry |
