Bottles At High Tide
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Raging, inviting. Inscrutable ice.
King Neptune's daughter, her moods are water
You'll never swim in the same ocean twice
She'll wait to decide which bait to provide
The wind in her sail grows to gale at shoreline
She weighs on a scale that you fail to define
while you're walking the plank....
Catch and release is her patent device
Wives tales have brought her whales to the slaughter
You'll receive notice of your sacrifice
She'll leave maps inside bottles at high tide
The trichton that pins you makes marks you will find
like fins on the surface, mean sharks in the brine
Still, you will give in to each heartbreaking tine
while you're walking the plank
She stays docked on the bank...
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
05/25/2018
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