Hermit crabs and cowry shells  [bad word] beneath his feet as [bad word] towards you 
He's waving at you 

Lift him up to see what you can see 
He begins his focusing 
He's aiming at you 

And now he has cutaways from memories 
And close-ups of anything that 
He has seen or even dreamed 
And now he's finished focusing 

He's imagining lightning 
Striking sea sickness 
Away from here 

Look who's laughing now that you've wasted 
How many years and you've barely even tasted 
Anything remotely close to 
Everything you've boasted about 
Look who's crying now 

Driftwood floats, after years of erosion  [bad word] tide touches roots to expose them, 
Quicksand steals my shoe, 
Clouds bring the f-stop blues 

Look who's laughing now that you've wasted 
How many years and you've barely even tasted 
Anything remotely close to 
Everything you've boasted about 
Look who's crying now