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Shallow MAG
When sirens sing with their cries all beatific
Shadows of sailors dance down the Pacific
Blinded by women who've done deeds horrific
It's nonsense
You stroke and you stroke but water is greedy
Catching and clutching to never be lonely
Then midday grinds down toward a
midnight forlorn
And you're scanning the ocean for some sworn storm
As lightning and thunder mark angels are born
You're sightless
You speak of ideals like beauty and grace
Guileful values like riggings lash at your face
The winds kissing your bow, the tide
hasn't turned
Rotund moral compass no landlocked
has earned
Don't wait for your captain's affronted spurned word
It's senseless
Once a shipwrecked boy, now a studied pirate
Learn your clock, Davy Jones, and the clouds won't blanket
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