Southernmost

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