Up And Goes

I see in color,
Even when, the words, black and white
I hear in flutters,
Even when, the words come in trite.

After all,
I’m tied to this anchor.
I’m tied to this hull.
Tied to this deck, through the night.

I better get to climbing,
If I hope, for land in sight.

You better get to drinking,
Better send out the crows.
Better scribble down letters,
Ya forge into notes.

This life, is an old widow maker.
An old tempest sleeping,
Where we,
Never move.

After all,
The current keeps on drifting.
The current keeps on shifting,
We’ve got nothing,
To lose.

You better get to drinking,
Better send out the crows.
Go, go and scribble down letters,
Your graceful hands, forge into notes

You, better get to sinking,
Better send down the hull
Go, go and scribble down plaintive
Before the wind goes.

After all,
The current keeps on drifting
The current keeps on shifting
We’ve got nothing,
To lose.