Crushed Dolphin A dozen times, I fill my lungs, Throughout the wondrous day. Circling, questioning; Lost hope comes suddenly For it’s better to be strong Than to be fearful Of peaceful stranger floating tides. Can shoulders of a crouching man Bear great weights of confidence? Heading east, as I think at least My true work it now begins. Doesn’t matter if there’s pain For next comes healing Of feelings; floating on peaceful tides.

Albacore Feeling the end with a shiver; My blues turned to gold as I died. Kindness was called for in the sunlight; As the reason it left both my eyes. Shuddering, quivering; Under the shade of the stern. Stealing a glimpse of my saviour; Who’ll live from my life that he took. Blindness won’t come in the storm bound night; Well at least I have been some use. Almost silent, almost still; Under the shade of the stern. And now it is over, This life in the ocean; alone. All I am thinking is swimming the river back home.

Dead Mako There’s no hatchet for the door. Just a lonely set of keys. Try to lash them to an oar, On the sea. I’ll welcome terrors in the night, For there are lions in my dreams, I won’t fight life till I die; On the sea. What if I’m already dead? For I cannot feel the pull Of the ocean in my head; What should I do? Try and take it in my stride. Feel the pressing of my palms. I won’t fight life till die; My sea is calm. I’ve said all my prayers, And I’ll say them again On the moro and so forth so on. There’s no place to buy luck, But that don’t make men Turn to good men; that comes within. So I’ll say all my prayers…

Dentuso Moving steady from the demons. Travel slowly into nowhere; There are many things to do. Oh how I wish I’d fed the hungry, From my full and wealthy belly; Instead of breaking backs for good. And now I cannot look my family, In the eyes for mine are empty; Still there are many things to do. Stop the beads of blood from jumping, All across the desert ocean; Give my broken back for good. Rob Tear Anger Who the hell do you think you are? What would Cicero tell you to do? Where do I fit into all this confusion? When do you expect this world to end; or has it already ended? Why do centuries repeat themselves and whip us up into a tortured frenzy? How? How? How much will you give for this all to be over? I’ll bruise your time. I’ll punch your face With fists made from brine; Don’t dare dry me up. For I cleanse the grime. And I leave no trace, To this world of swine; With eyes sewn shut. Sadness The past is a song you often sing. So softly, you never hear me call: Till I hang off your lash, And weave down your cheek, To lay on your lips; And salt your tongue. At last your heart’s awakening. So slowly, it now begins to crawl: And in between gasps, And through breathing creaks, I say life’s not a ship That should be sunk. Joy Instead, foresee what you soon could maybe hold. The secret is for you to truly believe, And hold on to that lone thought, That one day you will call me from too much smiling. Hold on to that lone thought, That one day you will call me from too much laughter. Hold on to that lone thought, That one day you will call me for you’re in love again. And you’ll be called baby, They’ll say my little hummingbird; Let’s build a home. From Spider-silk, With the other, The other mountain-gems. Drinking nectar, In the sunny, sunny afternoon. Teaching others of your songs filled with joy, Of your songs filled with joy; Oh with joy. And with the setting of the sun, Your heart rate will slow. Slow, real slow. You’ll fall asleep happy. Slow, real slow. Slow, real slow. Real slow.