You know in my heart, you’re a stowaway
and though I’ve sent in the dogs,
I can’t seem to make you go away,
In spite of all of the floods.
And I’ve asked Poseidon to find him who’s hiding
safe on my last vintage of hope –
a drug deeper than water
held in something that floats.
And you are a barrel-rider –
the most tenacious kind.
And you are all promises,
and I am all wine.
Our chronicle littered with farewell dinners,
you topping off my glass
before we pass,
before we pass.
But all I taste is salt
when we kiss, when we kiss
the way we pass in the night
the way we pass in the night
we must be ships.
I flashed you a signal
you gave me a bow on your way through.
With all our appointments
it’s all that we had time to do.
We love our traveling, though rigging’s unraveling,
my canvas sails’ getting torn.
Though I lead the way like a mascarone*,
I can’t say II know where I’m going.
Chorus
I found your name
finger-written in sand,
last time I made land.
And I would leave you a note,
but I know
it won’t last.
And you are a barrel-rider –
the most tenacious kind,
and you are all promises
and I am all wine
chorus
*Mascarone: Spanish for the figureheads on the front of wooden sailing ships.
© Heather Lloyd.
written by Heather Lloyd – arranged by ilyAIMY.