We have spent rudderless nights waking up on a sail of regret
Sheets set up upon the bed and angled to the west
Dipped our fingers in the water, it was wet
Dampness inching salty curls around the napes of our necks
Punctured by the compass needles, riled with certainty
The rescue boats are useless when none of us can agree
Hear the briny call, the ocean's gusty gnashing of her teeth
Breaking up the pretty cups and taking what she needs
There's a knocking on the hull, you hear it?
There's bones rattling under us
We set out without the smarts to fear it
With ignorance and gutless trust
Tell me once again if everything is as it seems
If things are getting better what's that crashing down the street?
The wind, you say, the storm that came, remember our retreat?
And our good days might come and stay and signal our defeat
If drug up from the muck I real in what I hope will be
A trove of golden apples from the golden apple tree
Flushed with fertile seeds I give them all away for free
For this our people should be known throughout all history
But from here we crouch and watch the plunder
Of the world we build with sweat and love
Why were you not built for wonder?
Why will you never get enough?
You say when you landed you could tell
That your conquest would go well
And though you wet yourself with fear
You were sure your god was near
The wind, you say, the storm that came
And our good days might come and stay