Land lubber

sail the long day
stream of time
on the waters of my mind
brave the storm front
black cloud thoughts
the port
the journey comes to nought

the sea flows to the edge of earth
then plunges down
toward darker birth
here be dragons
warns the map
yet rudderless the sails do flap

sails of flesh and hull of bones
the captain steers
by will alone
time's current brung him to this sea
the sands of damned mortality

some say that on the golden sands
shining angels singing stand
and moor the ships
with ropes of light
to islands of intense delight
that burn like fires - distant bright
amid the twinkling skies of night

but LO i'v also heard the tale
on night winds blown
un-earthly wail
with sea foam voice
tormented tones
we sail our days
alone alone
until the ship with creaking groan
Breaks and sinks below the waves
forever lost in silent graves.

sung like blues.

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe, he called for his bowl
he called for his fiddlers three.

what shall we play
the fiddlers say
and cole sat back and scratched his head

"i dont know the name of the song i feel
down deep in my soul
i'm 'sposed to be merry
so they say
but all i feel is old"

alone i face eternity
with no woman's love
and so salvations
no good to me
with no woman's love.

earth itself is paradise
no eden can compare
except when love is lost forever
then its all nowehere.

and when i stand at the pearly gates
i might see her there
with the man she loves
who isnt me
and heaven is nowhere

maybe i'll be lucky still
the luckiest of men
and why i die
no heaven find
only oblivion.