Pale Horse Sailor
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with thanks to Jeff Burke [jburke@cnc.com]
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It's calling like bells
refreshing sounds and smells
carelessly aged
fossils and shells
waiting 
in wishing wells

the light house signals and the ships sail in
viewing the extra-terrestials by the light of a pale moon
in this town the light shines dim
and the sailors seem stunted by the lack of vision
the water grows too big
it's so big
they reek of thirteen-year olds
vibrant, young and naive
at sea the mercy is on the wave
just like the scene to a coal miner
relentless and unrelenting
left at sea with poor skies and a pale moon
in the planet below
the lense cracks the sun until the night hits
sights limited to their bow and port, stern and starboard
port and bow, stern and starboard
port and bow, stern and starboard
port and bow, stern and starboard
port and bow, stern and starboard

port and bow, stern and starboard
port and bow, stern and starboard
it's a nautical indifference
so dark the compass becomes weight
left baiting fit the light that
 gives direction
the light house is drab and glowing out
the sailor is stuck
the sailor is stuck
what am I doing here?
what am I doing here?

in a moment short of impossible
let the record show the starters and the stoppers
saturated with the position of desperation
just like a sailor
just like a sailor
just like a sailor
just like a sailor