Slowly liquid ripples by,
I close my eyes: carmine red.

We now reveal the cracks in the surface
like cobbles rolling down to me.

headache's the border of the mind
we live at the edge

bow that's been bend for years
an arrow glides through polished plains

He no longer waits for Godot
He anticipates in burning bushes

Oh, The Seaman's Imagined Fish
Oh, The Seaman's Imagined Fish
Oh, The Seaman's Imagined Fish
Oh, The Seaman's Imagined Fish