Sand and wind burns the back of my throat
I fell while standing on my rowboat
Salt water tightens on my skin coat
I drowned - my head smacked to the rowboat
I floated through the plains of sea - an old pork chop greeted me
It was thankful for the company of a dead man who once might have ate him
I miss my rowboat - left it on the shore 10 feet above me
I never noticed the chipped paint on the bottom
And now I get to see things from a different view
The sea did vandalize with natural shades of green
Under what circumstance would I ever have had the opportunity to find out?
True pond scum always rises to the top of the water
I, on the other hand, am false pond scum and remain below
I swim the seven liquid gallows
I'm furniture for budding tadpoles
Sock-sogged and waterlogged I slow-bloat
One with the bog - fate sailed my rowboat
I'd kiss you but my lips are feed for tuna getting back at me
I am the Ronald-Of-The-Sea in a swimsuit that no longer fits me
I'd love you but my brain is cheese - my body's 59 degrees
And if I could I'd surely sneeze 'cause my nose is filled with red snapper
I'd hold you but my arms are weak - this whole thing won't help my physique
And to my neighbors I'm a freak - they're a fish hook, an old shoe and... (???)
I'd sing to you but I can't make sounds - there are no more bubbles in my mouth
And when I said I would head South to retire I meant Florida
I'm running out of words to sing - this fading out is a good thing
La da di da da da da da...
