«We gathered up our worldly goods
And stole off in the dark as quickly as we could.
You were quieting the baby when we came to the dock on the outskirts of town.
And looking back we saw China, shrinking to size of a coin
And then we saw water…everywhere.
When we climbed on board they tied our things together with electrical cord.
And then we set sail as we held on tight to the cold iron rail.
And I apologize, but I don’t know what I love more:
You next to me there or the receeding shore.
We stood there in the cold, and the baby was 6 months old.
We were passing him back and forth
When a cold familiar wind came down from the north.
And looking back we saw China shrinking to size of a coin
And then we saw water…everywhere.»
