The Shore

blue sky circumference on either side

lost in a green sea, licking up the foam

these things seem so old, so stone, so cold

walking the shore of a big sur, waging war

standing outside on the sidewalk 

in front of an old weather beaten store

the city smell reeks the air and permeates the skin

but the perfume breeze brings something new

pale surface with golden trim, shining that old blue

the kind of old you never want to forget

the kind of old that brings you back to childhood dreaming

and the taste of red wine on my lips is steaming

ethanol up to my brain and stumbling down the streets

and she loves it, she loves it and ill never know why

embrace the disease, trace with a finger the crease

an old blues singer climbing high up in trees

notes fill the sky like little blue jays and cardinals

picking me up, saving me from a harsh fall

flying me up to that place i last lost my soul

where last weekend we all struggled to climb in bed

and alone we lay above the sheets staring at the ceiling

and from the nights adventure we're still reeling

but we love it, we love it and we wait for something more

the blue sky circumference, the lonely night and the polar

and glow so deep it reminds me of solar, a singular

point on the light waves, riding them like the surf

laying in the beach sand tanning bodies like lost jellyfish

our limbs twist about in the breeze, and we walk under seas

until we meet each other in one place, just looking for a taste

taste of the salty, knotted hair and the solar stare

and to all the people i see, please don't look at me

until i cross beneath the atlantic and pacific seas

up 'til i find that big old blues singer under those palm trees

belting and yelling and whispering me sweet dreams

a voice so loud my shirt tears at the seems

something so sweet, so innocent leaving me so pleased

hopping from place to place, traveling little circus fleas

in two different worlds in a search for knowledge

what will we ever know, and what will it ever matter

all i know now and all i want to know is her

catch me like a slow sad fish with a bright blue lure

and i want to say like a pearl so pure, but feeling

so normal and moderate, there's such a need to complicate

so i sit in bed stoned and drunken and intimate

the only way i ever know how to communicate

and so under the covers we sit, cheap bottles in our hand

the liquid red rose pours warm down our throats like

our quiet whispers between sips, taking me places like

psychopsilocybin trips, falling from clouds to be caught by birds

rushing through open fields and endless herds

and infinite place with no end, no planet earth, not flat but bends

like light through a prism, between here and earth i dig my schism

shovel in hand and sweat on my brow, covered in land

i move my arms with the deep piles of earth all around me

the ground moves from sea to sea and no more i travel beneath the waters

i hover above them in a slow and happy walks

smiling to the horizon which i continue towards in a gradual zig-zaggy path

and of this world this is the last i will see

i climb through a blue circumference into a dream