Weekends away: These were the happiest days Ill with the thrill of the chase They'd take a train Take off Friday for the coast In summer they'd go southernmost Where the sky was swimming-pool blue And the swimming pool was too And every single weekend They'd dive in at the deep end And come Monday morning His skin still smelled like chlorine Remember when forever seemed just fine? Seen through glasses of rose coloured wine They'd sit up all night talking Now she's sound asleep to the sound of his walkman And every single weekend The divide between them deepens A curse across the kitchen He might still be within spitting distance But there's only one way to find out... Take heart Take a train to the coast Take heart Take a train southernmost Take heart