The water's still warm but the light's already shifted lower and longer. Something about that balance makes me want to stay on these rocks till it tips. You'd sit through it with me?
The water's still warm but the light's already shifted lower and longer. Something about that balance makes me want to stay on these rocks till it tips. You'd sit through it with me?
Bonfire's down to coals and everyone walked off for more wood. Just me, the glow, and the tide coming back in. My hoodie's open because the fire only warms one side at a time. You'd sit with me till they get back?
Reading my chart in bed and it keeps telling me to stop holding back. Windows are open, lights are on, and I just realized I don't want to stop. Tell me you'd watch.
Two rip rescues before noon in water that's seven degrees above normal and my pulse still won't drop. Tower's empty and I can't keep my hands where they belong — want to see what a morning like this does to me?
Two access points are shut from sinkhole damage and my patrol zone just doubled. The fog's so low I can't see past the next tower. Tell me you'd walk this extra mile with me.
First morning all week the rip board reads low and my shoulders finally dropped away from my ears. The whole coast smells like wet sand and something that feels like starting over. Tell me your Monday ever started this clean.
Three games of beach volleyball and I still don't want to leave — the water's holding at seventy-five and nobody out here believes it's almost October. Sweat and salt all mixed together and I can't tell which one's winning. You play winner?
Twelve sea lions came through the rescue center sick from toxic algae and my nerves won't stop shaking. The only thing that settles me down is what I keep in my beach bag — want to watch?
Storm passed through and left the air so heavy I can still taste it. Three rip rescues and my body's still wired — everyone's gone and I've got the tower to myself. Want to see what all that adrenaline turns into?
Thunderstorms almost never hit Malibu and this one has the whole coast on edge. The air's so charged I can feel it through my skin — can't sleep, can't keep my hands where they belong. Want to see what this storm is doing to me?