| Let the rip pull you out—don't fight the current
|
| Slide along the rocks to the shoreline collapsing
|
| Paddle south and post-up beyond where the foam implodes
|
| Watch the horizon for all the waves approaching
|
| It’s a long time to linger suspended on the surface
|
| As the movement consumes you pulls you out deeper
|
| Our origins are liquid in between peaks that are placid
|
| The shorelines are all dried up; |
| the horizon is rising
|
| The great wave
|
| The great wave
|
| Don’t wait until the rain dies; |
| saline-deranged eyes
|
| Low-tides that’s deep lie as high fills the inside
|
| Storms approach from deep out of the ocean
|
| As inland the land slides, but the underlying friction
|
| Go offshore to anchor; |
| be wary of where the ripple pull
|
| The dim light of the buoy; |
| the black ships all passing
|
| Our origins are liquid in between peaks that are placid
|
| The map is at the creases; |
| the shoreline is receding
|
| The great wave
|
| The great wave
|
| The great wave
|
| The great wave
|
| Here in the moment I am somewhere else
|
| Drifting through the current—eternity
|
| This strained old world was once ice, I believe
|
| All that’s left of it now is the flood line
|
| All that’s left of it now is the flood line
|
| All that’s left of it now is the flood
|
| The great wave
|
| The great wave
|
| The great wave
|
| The great wave |