I'll pay no mind to the falling sky,
and bite my tongue while the sea subsides.
My sanctuary is in your hands.
When I'm with you, I'm at land.
Us, frowning folk, have to stay close,
For the world will forgo a misanthrope.
Now, I sail free of fear
And the shore never seemed so near.
The Earth may as well be a shrine
In which to memorialize
Time spent in glorious daze,
Drifting elsewhere with the waves.
My pilgrimage is pure and true.
Nothing could blind my view.
As I endeavor further on,
My heart only grows more fond.
Imagine us at the promenade
In due time, the dowry paid.
But for now I'm content to wait.
I guess it's been an abstract day.
I'll bat an eye to the end of time,
And turn my cheek while the Heavens divide.
When I turn frail and you grow wan,
I'll think of us, and I'll be at land.
