Sweet surrender on the quayside
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You remember we used to run and hide
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In the shadow of the cargoes I take you one time
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And we're counting all the numbers down to the waterline
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Near misses on the dogleap stairways
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French kisses in the darkened doorways
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A foghorn blowing out wild and cold
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A policeman shines a light upon my shoulder
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Up comes a coaster fast and silent in the night
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Over my shoulder all you can see are the pilot lights
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No money in our jackets and our jeans are torn
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Your hands are cold but your lips are warm
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She can see him on the jetty where they used to go
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She can feel him in the places where the sailors go
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When she's walking by the river and the railway line
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She can still hear him whisper
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Let's go down to the waterline
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-----------------
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Down To The Wateline
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| Dire Straits |
