| Inside he’s empty
|
| A head filled with shopping lists and politics
|
| And a hollow eggshell kind of frailty
|
| Pulling himself back together like desperate wishes
|
| Into the wild sea that moans and boils
|
| Filled with old ghosts and a whole other language
|
| Uncoiling forever
|
| Indecent and foreign
|
| Welcome to the laws of decay
|
| The song of Darwin and dismay
|
| The wild sea rises higher
|
| Heavier it rushes down on him
|
| It was invited, it was not unwelcome
|
| His fear was just a 60 watt silver lining
|
| Shining from the edges of his crying
|
| Teaching him its frozen prayers
|
| Distant as the next second
|
| Far as any distant land’s future on the horizon
|
| He’s laughing in the ocean
|
| Laughing in the ocean
|
| Laughing in the ocean
|
| All his life was a gesture
|
| A check paid in dirty dishes
|
| Listen to the sea wind, hear how it hisses
|
| As it rolls over all your vain petty wishes
|
| And your sweet passionate kisses
|
| The wild, wild sea
|
| Forever dumb, it has no memory
|
| Just a replay of your complicated amnesty
|
| As it rolls over rocks and weed breaking your birdcage
|
| And your poet’s pages
|
| And all your drowned words
|
| That were just death threats and unpaid debts
|
| And leaves you breathless and peaceful for a while
|
| And you think your heart is without hate for a while
|
| And you think your soul is without hate for a while
|
| And your body was an animal that loved to hide
|
| See the source of your heart buried deep in the tide
|
| See the source of your heart singing from the tide
|
| Lonely joy
|
| Lonely joy
|
| Tears of joy
|
| The source of your heart deep in the undertow
|
| Hidden tongues and hidden hands pulling you from below
|
| To the source of your pain
|
| The source of your pain in the undertow |