Dryland

Well I slide through the days
or drink them like water,
hope I’ll wake up again to a sparrow song…
I’m holding myself,
waiting and waiting in the belly of a boat,
praying for dryland…
Well the key that’s in question,
I tied it to the end of a kite-string
on a windy day.
Well, you can have it if you find it,
but the last time I saw it
it was heading north to the mountain-lands
and here I am…
Turning in circles,
watching the hour hand passing me by…
all these saltwater days
until it finally seems like the north star is returning to the night sky,
to my night sky…
So I made a little room,
up on the top shelf
and I won’t hold that place dog-eared anymore,
no which is to say
life just goes on dear,
which is to say
sometimes I miss you like hell…
I’m holding myself,
waiting and waiting in the belly of a boat,
praying for dryland,
I’m holding myself,
waiting and waiting in the belly of a boat,
praying for dryland…
I can slide through the days
or drink them like water
hope I’ll wake up again
to a morning song…