Insane I wake up, the oars I take up and row to right
a dawnless widow, a Portsmouth ghost of East End slightFor you I hold this to build from nothing an Ancient Light
and so in motions of all distortions I pull for my lifeThis cold water is weighing us down
oh how I wish I was with you and nowhere elseLate this morning I came by Hampstead in a Devon scow
that found me drifting just off of Rame Head near Plymouth SoundIn the room that we let I found your hairbrush broke on the ground
and so in motion, like stone in potion, I just laid down
