​the Gleam The Microphones

[Verse]
Quiet beach, soaked through and through
Feel on my waist your wet hand
Surprised we both survived
Later, our burning bodies made a glow
And we rose as smoke and then as a puff of ash
We drifted out over the sea
Where it hurts too much to look
It hurts to try and see

[Outro]
At that point we could just step into the gleam