19 Jun 2009
Give me a song,
a tone for every word that I've said wrong.

I know it's a lot,
but it's all I know, maybe it's all I've got.

I swear I'll get it right,
My skiff is trailing; lungs brace for a fight.

Give me a shot,
I can bring it back, I can bring it all back home.

Beyond the coast,
and the friends who've seen me fuck it up the most.

I swear I'll get it right,
My skiff is trailing; lungs brace for a fight.

Here is my conviction,
a nautical addiction,
a funny sort of fiction.

Here is my confession,
Santiago's imputation,
an ecstatic exclamation.

Let your voice ring out through the endless night.

[I can see the big cats on the shore
their backs getting warmed by the sun
I can hear the waves crashing down
And it's all I want]