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Nautical Disaster
par
Gord Downie
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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
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Ton pseudo sera publié. Laisses les champs vide pour rester anonyme.
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