the universe, is just like our gods, you see. it works in this mysterious way... There's rejoicing, to see, innocent men be, set free... But triumph ,when the guilty man pays. heard this brother singing something sad, in a language spoke by three, or perhaps its 4. Or, is it more? Are we counting me? I listen close to whats unspoken, the silent screams folks keep inside. I'm fluent in, all dialects, of crazy, The implied, thats been confide. if your head can't wrap around it, or its suffering from shock know I'm putting holes in papa's boat, I'm kicking down the dock. i know in inference ambiguous, a word or two can spark, a desired state of mind, be intentions light or dark. just know when working darkness, on a dock nobody sails, thru some force one night, will come the light, and the light always... prevails. [Insturmental swell,] sorry about that mythic old boat, The one papa never had. sorry for the pretty weeping lassies, Even sorrier for the lads. I think at the crossing, the thought would have seemed insane . the misfortune that fate, a bit too late, Sent a poet to stop, a train. [Insturmental swell] [Scaled back] just know when working darkness, on a dock nobody sails, thru some force one night, will come the light, and the light it shall... prevail.
