Mackeral Landing

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Jim O'Mulloy

3:56

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Take care near the Manacles, follow the Mackerel
Silver arrows that speed through sea space
Rise and fall of the rolling waters
Ride the boat home to a safe landing place

Go down to the coast on the old Moho ledge
Where harbour wall stands at the Atlantic's edge
Look up to a house at the top of the hill
Lizard's high court ruled by Olivia and Phil

Coverack Youth Hostel we're
Coming back soon
We phoned up Phil and he booked us a room
Sweet little Emily will be there too
Those Wardens of Cornwall are folk kind and true

Life in the city can seem so surreal
Even though we call it our home
Millions of people milling about
Each in a world of their own

Victoria station floats in a closed space
A walk in Green Park makes me feel out of place
While under my feet lies the real rock and sea
As clouds rise over the old West Country

An inside out world is all I perceive
A surface without foundation
The Britannic heartland is where I want to be
The bedrock of a nation

Coverack Youth Hostel
We're coming back
Pack the car boot and load the roof rack
Drive down the main road to the end of the track
In London the landscape of Cornwall we lack

At home on the window sill in the sun sits
A pebble of serpentine stone
Nearby on the wall hangs a picture that fits
Its spirit in colour and form

At Kynance Liz sat with that stone in her hand
A heart of the Lizard in a vast reptile land
And pondered the sense of the sea and the wind
While beside her her children make ponds in the sand

Apple green marbled red veins and grey seams
Stony organs of feeling
Shades of Victorian memorial dreams
Soul of a magical being

Coverack Youth Hostel we've
Come back again
On the headland we stand by Tre, Pol and Pen
With the Chough on the cliff and the Heath at our feet
Feel the fresh air, so salty and sweet

Storm wreck from last winter lies quiet in the mist
As seals play in pools far below
White horses stand in the heather and gorse
A mother protecting her foal

Nearby is a house set in shelter alone
Retreat for an artist, farm labourer's home
We wish we might live like them in our own turn
Sure dreams of the future will always return

So trumpet Hewa for the great pilchard shoals
Out in the shining waves
Who lift their heads up right out of the sea
And sing brave Coverack's praise

So we fish em
Can em and
Toast em for tea
Though I'd rather have mackerel
Here at the hostel
And never leave

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