Night on journey: I may not be a Minnesota hooker, but I can write postcards from the edge

A girl took note as she stood at the water's edge, the waves are always moving and they will never be caught or captured - free as a rich bitch at the mall (do they still have malls, I'm going off of knowledge I gathered from 1980's movies such as Night of the Comet)? Lounge lizard songs keep me awake and I haven't really been to the ocean in awhile, I forget how those waves just --
Crash and clash and ebb and moon flow low tide that draws us closer than ever before
I'll probably just hang around until I disappear in the smoke.