Crave...the sound of ocean roaring
The moisture during nightime warmth
Crave...though rather ill-disposedly
To be
the director of your dreamplays
To cause awkward ecstatic awakenings
By his side, under the ghost of me
Into the waves still
rising higher
The mermaid home, wish I'd be taken there
Like the amoeba spawns
Filling poor Rockford's cave
My brains
swell sorely
When exposed to the vicinity
The conciousness sears me
Through the necessary
Inhaling sin, sketching the
moves
Crave...the sound of ocean roaring
It was all tears mixed with sea
I'm purified by crystal showers and now
Salt
tastes too mildy on my tongue
Crave...though rather ill-disposedly
To wake the sea-nymph that remains unseen
Causing awkward
ecstatic awakenings
By his side, under the ghost of me