The children are walking back from the beachnSun on the sidewalk is burning their feetnWashing the salt off under the showernAnd just wasting away, wasting awaynThe hours and hours and hoursnnCome on, climb over your father's back fencenFor the very last time we'll take the shortcut across his lawnnThen lie together on the estuary bednPerfectly still, perfectly warmnnSleep no morenSleep is deadnSleep no more on the estuary bednAche no morenOld skin is shednSleep no more on the estuary bednnI see you stillnI know not restnSilt returns along the passage of fleshnI hear your voicenI taste the saltnI bear the stain, it won't wash offnI hold you notnBut I see you stillnWhat use eyesight if it should melt?nWhat use memory covered in estuary silt?nnI know your shapenOur limbs entwinednI know your name, remember minennSleep no morenSleep is deadnSleep no more on the estuary bednAche no morenOld skin is shednSleep no more on the estuary bed