Looking at the water
Through the spaces of an iron-ore train
The water eddies round the rushes
And Eddies round at my house, insane.
The breakers in the distance
Cut the air like the crackle of a CB rig.
They found a crack in Eddie
And they tore it down, and snapped him like a twig.
His head is full of Goose Green
Tastes the smoke from the damp grass, well alight
And Eddie's waiting for the choppers
And he goes on waiting long into the night.
And I thought I heard a voice
Didn't someone here just whisper, "Rejoice".
The harbour's filled with newsmen,
Little boats go bobbing, like a Dunkirk repeat
To a train ride and a welcome
And "Well done, Eddie" right across the street.
The water's grey and choppy
On the Lake out by the fairground big wheel.
We could circle it forever
But we'd never guess the way that Eddie feels.
Between the spaces of an iron-ore train I see how the water of the lake ripples. With me at home is Eddie, insane. In the distance he heard the sea noise. It sounded like the crackle of a CB-Rig. Eddie had cracked and they had now completely broken him. His thoughts are still on the battleground of Goose Green and he waits until late into the night for the helicopters to pick him up.
“Rejoice!” Margaret Thatcher said, when the message of victory came from the Falklands. When the soldiers returned the port was swarming with reporters. Small boats go bobbing, like a 1940 repeat of Dunkirk, when the stranded British army was picked up and saved by an enormous quantity of civilian ships. After a train ride home to a heroes reception, a banner proclaims “Well done, Eddie”. We could ride the big wheel on the fairground by the sea forever, but we still wouldn’t know how Eddie feels.