Sinking ships, just wait a minute
We can all just float away, across the atlantic
I’d drag you down with me, and we’d walk without shoes
With the crabs, and the dwellers of the great blue deep
They’d swim, and nip at our heels as we leave imprints in ocean bottom
Lets go hunting for buried treasure:
Foul sentiments, remnants from a time long past
Taste it sweetly on your lips, the love of loss itself
Awaken from your shelled perspective, and taste validity
Tranquility in living quiet, bright mornings and Sunday papers.
Suburbia, a haven of houses with complimentary colors.
Then taste the fabled ambrosia of tempting lips and white lines,
Swept into the sea headfirst, so quickly did you lose your footing,
But it bothered you even less then than it does now, dirty knees well worn
Fate’s ever guiding hand wrote all over your soft hued arms
And there was a tear in the fabric of your stitchwork.
Reality tends to be misleading, never think first without feeling
You are now living in a new year, the clock is always ticking
Explosions prove we are still moving, that our world is still turning
That people are living and dieing in loud ways, for reasons larger than themselves
That the price of breathing could still be valued by the price of loss.
I want resolution to sweep over my old fears from a year ago
Tell me just once, whisper in my ear underneath your breath,
That one day, when you are half-asleep at 2am,
You will remember the part I played in this gamble of a game
That is the sound of settling.