Well she tossed all night like a raging sea. Woke up and climbed from the suicide machine. With her spanish candles and her persian poems. Stuck on the rocks inside opus 40 stoned. And scratching
Into a dream, I took a turn, and promised to return. The way we were, the way we met, the way I lit your cigarette. The way it trailed, into a stream, and lay down between. . You had to choose, a
Sea the corporal sea. Atlantic's too specific. Haven't time to settle sharks. Infest the water. . Kicking up the dust. Constructing new ideals. Old ones laid to rust. Nothing seems so real. .