Saltwater
on the landing there in the slip stream
on the sweet beams of by and by
I am standing in the wet dream
of a giant in the sky
and i wonder does it enjoy me
like the fresh fruit on the street
that leaks the sweetest nectar
and then spoils in the heat
when waking, i feel a terror
of the memory of night
for a second, only to loose it
for my eyes can't bear the sight
so i look to you, my only real friend
brother ishmael
commanding the view from the crow's nest
on a ship setting sail
capsules of blue and gold
weave themselves round me
billow! billow!
they cover my eyes
they keep me satisfied
I had a friend one time
he packed up all his things and he left
us behind
and i still can't tell you why
i remember him most clearly in
the moments before the flash
and i wonder if it was me or him
that set in motion the gash
and i question how could i get so
close to such a cold heart
and i question if the cold heart
was in me from the start
ishmael, you are the reader
of every man in every sea
and i'm sure you could tell the story
much better than me
cause all i see is honest confusion
and this is truly heartfelt
i'm like roshaman's woodcutter
in the trees waiting for help
capsules of blue and gold
weave themselves round me
billow! billow!
they cover my eyes
they keep me satisfied
i had a friend one time
he packed up all his things and he left
us behind
and i still can't tell you why
weather is the ether
sandbags and salt
towers of grey matter
thundering a cough
the fingers of a tall moan
a howl that can't be heard
keep on singing, bird
the cayman islands
are just islands
where men come and go
and the wood on the pier
must be replaced
every few years or so