We live in a spectacularly beautiful place. On trips to the local beach I wonder what is driving the desire to jam into a small boat and sail off to places unknown.
I wish I was a fisherman
tumblin’ on the seas
far away from dry land
and it’s bitter memories
The local beach
castin’ out my sweet line
with abandonment and love
no ceiling bearin’ down on me
save the starry sky above
with light in my head
with you in my arms…
Maybe it is because it is the unknown while everything here is familiar and well trodden.
Then there is the nagging feeling that the world is changing fast and we’d better see what we can of it before it all disappears.
The smell of sand and salt and seaweed and the sun
i wish i was the brakeman
on a hurtlin fevered train
crashin head long into the heartland
like a cannon in the rain
with the feelin of the sleepers
and the burnin of the coal
countin the towns flashin by
and a night that’s full of soul
with light in my head
with you in my arms…
Stone worn and shaped by wind and water
If we go that way (in the photo below) for a couple of weeks we will run into New Zealand. If that does not sink us and we keep going, we will eventually hit South America. That’s a big place and pretty hard to miss.
New Zealand is that way
And I know I will be loosened
from the bonds that hold me fast
and the chains all around me
will fall away at last
and on that grand and fateful day
I will take thee in my hand
I will ride on a train
I will be the fisherman
With light in my head
You in my arms…