Busdriver
Bone Dry
This body is a body of water
This body a vessel
This body lies on the beach
A note at the water's edge
Portuguese Man o' Wars stretch and trail across the sand like sharp turn o' kids
Pointing to our escape
There is no water except the sea
Even the people floating into our ports are satellites
Even those people rain just teases their horizons at the edges of nеver coming close enough
Thеre is no water except what swallowed our hope

I can hear you calling
From across the salted waters
Your voice carries this far from a time before
Your paper lips and flat smile were a promise
Your voice carries
You are here with me
I carry you between the space of my syllables
I carry you in my silences, water in a sponge

There will be a last boat
I will leave this waterless place
This is not a place for life now
We've squeezed it all too hard
I will do whatever I have to
There will be a last boat for this dry place
Some will be left
Some will float across the salted waters
All these seasons, all these years
These rivers, these channels, these lagoons, these broads
Have bound me to you
Even though they are empty and dry now
I remain bound to you
All the distance, all the waters that bind us and keep us from each other
All the daily chances we squandered until we got bored and wandered away
I know we have failed, I know...
I have failed you
But if we fall...
Just right
And we fall together
And if we do it together with our bodies
Becoming smaller and smaller
Trading our water for speed
Trading our past for whatever comes
Looking in the rubble making flags of ash
House flies replacing reef fish
I am sorry that I have failed you
I am going to make this boat
We will sail the salt
Rest within each other
Find all the water in the world
In our frozen embrace