If you should go skating on the thin ice of modern life, dragging behind you the silent reproach and a million tear stained eyes, don’t be surprised when a crack in the ice appears under your feet. You slip out of your depth and out of your mind with your fear flowing out behind you, as you claw the thin ice.
As if that’s not-good enough, this is being sung to a baby. The sea may look warm to you babe, and the sky may look blue. Oooh ooh oooh Baby Blue. Epic.
