The tide will tug at my hips
|
And the salt will dry upon my collar
|
IĄŻll have splinters for oars
|
And IĄŻll break her heart in fourteen places
|
|
SheĄŻll make light of it all
|
As I lay her low
|
|
Oh Kalypso ? Tell me to go
|
|
WeĄŻll sleep to the creaking of timbers
|
The pitch and yaw of empty vessels
|
IĄŻll plot points on a curve
|
Over all her tender navigations
|
|
Oh my mutinous heart
|
I canĄŻt overthrow
|
|
Oh Kalypso ? Tell me to go
|
|
Maps that end where they begin
|
Will guide us through these bitter winds
|
Through seven years of sad goodbyes
|
Two tiny ships on vast horizons
|
|
-----------------
|
Kalypso
|
| Sweet Billy Pilgrim |
