Went out to
sea one winter eve
To fish for stone,
to replace a wall,
Of bitter feelings
for those left and lost.
Met a pool of poisoned birds,
Shrieking to not hit the curbs
Though there was
Nothing left of the well within,
They scream for help
And did nothing but sink.
And though dawn is on the sail
Rotting logs bare yellow stains
And the stones we passed yell "Nothing to gain".
Questions sank and the boat goes under.
Next we saw some friendly sharks,
Asking for help to turn curiosity's spark
And to help them lead their babies away
From a terrible man with a terrible plan.
We passed them by and asked them questions but the man said:
"The newborn sharks need not pass the time
Looking in books for forgotten rhymes.
Reason's great big ugly head
Killed off dreams before they were dead."
He spat and hissed from within the ball
Cut off his arm just to see them fall.
And though there is hope in all life
They can't seek what's left of him
If they've no hope at all. And they go on, die out
Starve…and disappear, ruled by hands that chained them.
Jet black patches rolled on the waves
Kept safe and sound by lords of sin
Who want nothing more to kill again.
Left dry and wanting under the earth,
There isn't anything that won't bring their mirth.
Those disgusting blackguards wet their throat
And with cruelty bloat.
They moisten their loins on creatures' remains
Seeking endless thrills and gains.
They deprive deprave and with nothing to lose
Spend not but a penny, take away your gain, and supplement it with the cheapest of booze.
If no one's left to make sure they croak
The amphibians poison
will make sure the lever's broke
And we'll continue on the waves.
The man of the sea turned the boat around.
Head for port and harbor we found.
Not an hour away the nightmares left
To seek out younger, fresher flesh.
The memories of our day at sea,
With sailors, sharks, and dark daydreams
Quit our heads to head for some drink
To bring ourselves back from the brink.
Who knew when we left for cobblestone,
We’d find trouble before trouble'd gone home?
Not that captain, not the leader before the fray
Who sits in the corner drinking away his day.
With the bartender's money and his cups in his hand
The drunken sailor headed out for dry land,
And sat beneath the tree with a thousand bands.
ISA
To fish for stone,
to replace a wall,
Of bitter feelings
for those left and lost.
Met a pool of poisoned birds,
Shrieking to not hit the curbs
Though there was
Nothing left of the well within,
They scream for help
And did nothing but sink.
And though dawn is on the sail
Rotting logs bare yellow stains
And the stones we passed yell "Nothing to gain".
Questions sank and the boat goes under.
Next we saw some friendly sharks,
Asking for help to turn curiosity's spark
And to help them lead their babies away
From a terrible man with a terrible plan.
We passed them by and asked them questions but the man said:
"The newborn sharks need not pass the time
Looking in books for forgotten rhymes.
Reason's great big ugly head
Killed off dreams before they were dead."
He spat and hissed from within the ball
Cut off his arm just to see them fall.
And though there is hope in all life
They can't seek what's left of him
If they've no hope at all. And they go on, die out
Starve…and disappear, ruled by hands that chained them.
Jet black patches rolled on the waves
Kept safe and sound by lords of sin
Who want nothing more to kill again.
Left dry and wanting under the earth,
There isn't anything that won't bring their mirth.
Those disgusting blackguards wet their throat
And with cruelty bloat.
They moisten their loins on creatures' remains
Seeking endless thrills and gains.
They deprive deprave and with nothing to lose
Spend not but a penny, take away your gain, and supplement it with the cheapest of booze.
If no one's left to make sure they croak
The amphibians poison
will make sure the lever's broke
And we'll continue on the waves.
The man of the sea turned the boat around.
Head for port and harbor we found.
Not an hour away the nightmares left
To seek out younger, fresher flesh.
The memories of our day at sea,
With sailors, sharks, and dark daydreams
Quit our heads to head for some drink
To bring ourselves back from the brink.
Who knew when we left for cobblestone,
We’d find trouble before trouble'd gone home?
Not that captain, not the leader before the fray
Who sits in the corner drinking away his day.
With the bartender's money and his cups in his hand
The drunken sailor headed out for dry land,
And sat beneath the tree with a thousand bands.
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