my

faltered, the man drops his hat on the hook

he turns the book page a few times and lays onto the chair

"the first issue of LSM! an awaited social scripture, in my palms!"

monocle adjusted, he begins to recite

it is with the penumbra that we tread along

seasick, but soon no longer homesick

the road of a sea so! so! so! vast, echoes of the past are seen through the planks

let's start a fire on the water

so all the fish tremble to reach it

you've seen them in a crunched attic, poking paper with ink-drinking pens

the ocean is cold cold and dark yet it is their home

we are the young, the ancient, the ones who travel a floor unable to be destroyed

when i rest my anchor for the last time

all that's left will be rustled notes from the lighthouse

when i pour this liquor one more time

maybe a foggy vision of her will appear

my strange semantics are so fantastic, oh, how pacific they are to me

unable to be truthless, restless is my core

one fish my rod can't pull up is the weight inside of me...

but alas the fire pearl rises again

and the birds sing to me, where leaves grow and boats row