Pale Horse Sailor - June Of 44

It’s calling like bells

Refreshing sounds and smells

Carelessly aged

Fossils and shells

Waiting

In wishing wells

The light house signals and the ships sail in

Viewing the extra-terrestials by the light of a pale moon

In this town the light shines dim

And the sailors seem stunted by the lack of vision

The water grows too big

It’s so big

They reek of thirteen-year olds

Vibrant, young and naive

At sea the mercy is on the wave

Just like the scene to a coal miner

Relentless and unrelenting

Left at sea with poor skies and a pale moon

In the planet below

The lens cracks the sun until the night hits

Sights limited to the bow and port, stern and starboard

Port and bow, stern and starboard

Port and bow, stern and starboard

Port and bow, stern and starboard

Port and bow, stern and starboard

Port and bow, stern and starboard

Port and bow, stern and starboard

It’s a nautical indifference

So dark the compass becomes weight

Left baiting for the light that gives direction

The light house is drab and glowing out

The sailor is stuck

The sailor is stuck

What am I doing here?

What am I doing here?

In a moment short of impossible

Let the record show the starters and the stoppers

Saturated with the position of desperation

Just like a sailor

Just like a sailor

Just like a sailor

Just like a sailor

Just like a sailor