Nothing's better than catching the last train west. The windows rattle the whole way there. No weekend flights, no fancy plans. Just your cold fingers holding my hand. The sea is grey, the sky is too. Still every street looks good with you. The wind keeps stealing words away... You smile and let the silence stay. We never needed postcard views. Just old cafés and worn-out shoes. Some places only come alive When someone else is there beside you. We're sitting down by Swansea Bay. Watching daylight drift away. Fish and chips, hot tea to keep us warm. The tide comes in, but we don't rush. I never cared where we would be... As long as you were there with me. Rain on Castle Street again. Buskers singing in the wind. The arcade lights begin to glow, Somehow brighter in the rain. We missed the last bus home that night. Walked the shoreline under lights. Funny how the smallest days Turn into the ones that stay. No photograph could hold this night. That's why it still feels alive. The sea keeps washing footprints clean... Still I know just where we stood. We're sitting down by Swansea Bay. Nothing left we have to say. If tomorrow never comes, Tonight has been enough. Looking back, I finally see... We never knew we were rich.
