i sing the song of sinking ships
in a soft and sleeping sea.

a song of slow rises and falls,
a song where refrains are only restraints-

some say a tired ocean pulls everything apart,
and others say it's finally coming together.

in this song, the rhythms
are feet on these decks;
children run, and lovers dance

hands that reach for eachother and
into the air for notes make these cymbals ride,
and when they are pulled back to their sides
with nothing but ideas for tomorrow,
those hands make these cymbals crash.

and in this song, fingers on strings
are in search of a truth of some kind
and we live in the light of the notes
that we strike.

and in songs like this one,
they all blend together,
seeking out others like themselves...

and in this song
we find a way to follow all or none,
to accept these ends or defy them-
but those notes hammer on...

and when no one remembers where these
ships were built,
or knows whether they found home,
their legacy lives on in songs like this.

and when you sing this song,
those lovers will dance,
and those truths will be found..
those notes and cymbals,
and oceans and fingers will rise up again,

though now, they fade.
though now, they fade.