Finding the Needle

Finding the needle Sit by my side in the small garden with Tall trees that cast shadows and cools the summer Just sit there at my side and let me narrate My story, how a poor boy from a Nordic country Ended up in the interior that has no sea. From seaman to poet, and yes how they laughed when I drunk recited my poems to an audience of fools Who didn`t see how exploited they were From ship to ship I was always fired it was the drink You see, or that was what they said. So many harbours and the sat in bars by the docks While I went up town to see reality and not the whores And cheap drink drowning in sentimental music Somehow I was always disappointed I didn`t belong And was a rudderless ship drifting in the ocean of life? You do not understand but hear the pain I suffered Not belonging to anyone. Freedom is challenging, and honestly doesn`t give you friends, so just hold my hand and let me rattle on till it’s time for tea