Irish Midnite 

Tonight

I'm on the end of the pier

watching every friend and relative

I have sail into the Atlantic.  

I don't know if I'll ever see them again. 

The ship sails smaller into a giant golden glow; 
the sun's spread, done, and going  down, 
into the sea. 

I can't see the ship anymore, only 

the overwhelming glow. 

I'm afraid to turn from the ship and the sea,  
but I turn around and walk down 
the pier, up the path, back to my hotel.

My room is up on the top floor, so when I

get up there, in a minute, I'll see far out over the sea,
and see the ship until it's gone over the edge. 

But from the forecourt I can see into my window
up on top of the hotel, and see that the golden glow

is all over the back wall of my hotel room, too. 

That wall will comfort me 

after the ship and the sun goes down.