Lyrics

Sailors of Time.

The dusk came gliding, like I said,
in red clusters of canvas, filled.
A touch of fantastic and extravagant vanity,
as it was proclaimed, right,
standing solid above you,
like monumented dark marbled cliffs.
Elongated itself upwards, and baby, didn’t you know,
beyond the drop of rustling and shivering foliage,
exactly what it developed, from scratch.
Elongated frameworks, unseen, but not forgotten, right,
and you know, above the sea, you see it all,
and I mean it all, in the moment, momentarily.
For an instance, great and grateful to the doubtful mind.
The goddess of eternal existence, profound as she was,
with jewels shining in the night, yeah, and spot on,
with ribbons of moonshine attached to her hair, right
like an outstretched caravan of surprises.
And the dandruff of worlds strewn,
that’s right baby, I say to your merry recognition,
out between stretches of hazy light years,
yeah, that is continuous, and so very true.
Where the dancing and fighting between time and space
regains momentum, like I said, forever, baby, forever and ever, yes indeed.
Forever and ever, to the bone of the subtlety of it all.

Wave of mighty shoulder, comes to show, yeah,
switches its focus of arms pushy content,
to the rays of the down-thrusting eye of the moon, that’s right.
Fog rolls in on the sunken time spaced sea across the evening bay, see,
like a sleeping lion where the particles of wrath bulges in the fire.
Other places, other faces, other traces,
not a simple sweep in the rustling of ice caps upon global volcanoes.
Mountains in dragon scale puff, puff, come to talk, and spot on,
frocked in fissions like fused funnels of red froth, roaring.
And the line of the morning lava turns, you know, you’re there,
ghostly like a moraine, watching us later, solemnly, as passers byes,
like the clutched halos of the shadows close to the stage of mimicry.
True in greatness, and the lock rewinds.


Stayed until the last words of conversation with the subconscious,
would dissolve and vanish; slowly, yeah, no deal done.
The sleep lay heavy upon the landscape, not awakened yet,
like I said, and I wondered whether I would depart from it or not.
Humanity seemed very remote, as if their future memories
floated from the wooded peaks of the inlands like long gone beckoning.
The waters shone mysteriously, and would slowly withdraw from the darkmarbled shores,
preparing it from farewells exchanged beneath a familiar lamp.
A silent blaze along the surges edge, and a multitude of oceanic whips
glowed in the sprayed dusk like curls from unseen mermaids.
This impression persisted for some moments, to savor,
in an instantaneous flash of perception, the permanence through periods of daylight,
when the sails of the yachts would whip like seagull wings.
By the spectral illumination of moonshine, the seaweed resembled
a stranded ship on the beach, whose glitter was blurred by a creeping mist.