[Spoken Intro]
|
[Marty] The gondolas, sometimes they sleep. But othertimes they swim.
|
[Ann Carlberger] And you?
|
[Marty] Me?
|
|
The sudden rush and temptation
|
Of drizzle on my window
|
To go out and swim in the streets
|
With you
|
To turn the world into Venice
|
To let the water shrink me
|
Let me float in my umbrella boat
|
With you
|
|
I can see the rain clouds emptying
|
Little needles leaning to the left
|
Of you
|
And high they fly like burst balloons
|
Running to the moon
|
For an airless rest
|
With you
|
|
I'll slip on the deck of the fishing trawler
|
Wearing comical yellow
|
There's fishtails going off like mousetraps
|
Nets so many holes yet prisons
|
Me just in it simply for
|
The water
|
|
The faces of mountains
|
Cut with white blood
|
Stampeding stallions of foam
|
For you
|
To hoof shaped pools
|
The sparkle of imaginary jewels
|
|
That the magician that the
|
Sun is creates
|
|
-----------------
|
Water
|
Marty Willson-Piper |