Paramore, Moon Locomotive

Paramour, moon locomotive

as your ship waves goodbye

to your ramshackle crew of old winddusted pirates

in the tilting with turbulence 

no more breath in its sail

the captain's ring, his most dearly beloved

now his 3rd finger missing

but no wanted signs

& a bitten off tongue

 a treasure in a jug

too cheap for a bottle

 from down in the cellar 

from up on the air deck

a glimmering gateway cracked in a timestorm

excitement may not echo, or say much

but it has it's own language up there

will start the engine

refilter the air

this ain't rocket science - it's cactus oil

blast!

a redbottom stork

swallowed up by a cloud

star was the vehicle and rode like the lost

reborn a phoenix

in a firebrush forest

then settling

in retirement from laziness

on a perch

somewhere in a chiptoothed paradise

in the old old west

gold as the eye can see

treasured and happy

diseased fungus growing where it's not ought to be

a sky pirate's dream

a moon locomotive

restless and desperate

onboard a two-syllable illness

with a ring on each conquest

they never learn't to read

so they can't count

on anybody

so goodbye airship

goodnight scallywag