The rain pissed down on Leven's shores. The sane rain would rain on superstores And set off car alarms in our street. Let's burn our clothes and hunt our meat. A day of skies, a day of feasts, We fell to bed, to grunt like beasts. We could live in your wee car, We could never go too far. A flash of sun between your thighs, A perfect black shape to protect my eyes. A swooping hawk, a dying tree. "Fuck me," says he, "fuck you," says she. If i'm a clown, then you're a mime But I'm sure that we'd be friends in time. The selkie put her skin back on And swam away, back to her own