“These days I walk the line
Between Red and Green,
Between port and chardonnay
Just sitting, sipping pickling brine.

These days I walk and walk,
Till my shoes fall off
And my socks are wearing thin,
These days I find the time to breathe.

These days there’s times I’d have to say
That I’d like for no one else to see.
These days I try and try to breathe,
Deeply.

My time away and lack of forethought
Has caught up my lead,
What with the fishes in the sea.”