I had this dream where I relished the fray and the screaming filled my head all day
It was as though I had been spit here, settled in
Into the pocket of a lighthouse on some rocky socket
Off the coast of France, dear

One afternoon, four thousand men died in the water here and five hundred more were thrashing madly as parasites might in your blood
Now I was in a lifeboat designed for ten and ten only
Anything that systematic would get you hated

It's not a deal not a test nor a love of something fated
Death
The selection was quick
The crew was picked, in order
And those left in the water were kicked off our pant leg
And we headed for home

Then the dream ends when the phone rings
You're doing alright he said
It's out there most days and nights
But only a fool would complain
Anyway Susan, if you like, our conversation is as faint as a sound in my memory
As those fingernails scratching on my hull