Souls of Men

Written by: richard michael

If I should fly 
this Earth tonight
somewhere between two sleeps,
to the beating of a rythm,
in the cadence my heart keeps,
my heart will keep it's measure, 
to the faucet's broken seam,
that leaks my mind to other worlds,
and begs my soul to dream.

I dream I fish for souls of men,
sea water drops the looking glass.
My ship is coming on the tide,
I pray this vessel be my last.
The souls of men shall be my treasure,
of wich I'd fill the cargo hull,
for nothing fills my heart with pleasure
 like fishing for men's souls.

On and on and on I fish,
while the dripping cuts the seam, 
that leaks my mind to other dimensions,
beyond Crystal City's broken dreams.

So, if I fly this world tonight,
somewhere between two sleeps,
to the beating of a rythm,
in the cadence my heart keeps,
my heart will keep it's measure,
to the faucet's broken seam, 
to heal the souls tied to this world,
and free my soul that beams.

Bigger fish I'm pleased with,
but it's the smaller ones I rue.
The schools of the smaller ones 
my nets keep passing through.
Finer nets I need I'll need,
 times no cost to me it's true.
Finer nets will catch more souls,
God rest my weary crew.

On, and on, and on I fish,
sea water drops the looking glass.
My ship is sailing with the tide,
I pray this vessel be my last.

So, if I fly this Earth tonight,
somewhere between two sleeps,
to the beating of the rythm,
in the cadence my heart keeps,
my mind will see the future,
in the blinking of an eye,
when I've gathered all the lost souls,
before they even die.

Glorious rays of sun shine down.
sea water drops the looking glass.
My ship's a coming on the tide,
a rainbow high above the mast.

So, if I fly this world tonight,
somewhere between two sleeps,
to the beating of a rythm,
in the cadence my heart keeps,
my heart will keep it's measure,
to the faucets dripping seam,
and open up other dimensions,
and free my soul that beams.