Watch Man

I row my boat and glide lagoon, in secret nite of palest moon

The rite of which I now resume, draws out the spirits from candled tomb

I am the Watch Man of these waters, searching rippled glass

For lost and lonely sons and daughters, who seek my outstretched grasp

It is I, who drifts alone along, a dark and briny sea,
Swiftly maneuver, avoid the ones, who haunt their gaze toward me

Watch Man, it is the futile fate, to which I must agree

Watch Man, there is no other choice, no one to hear my plea

The spirits search, in vain for theirs, who left the shores of summer's glee

It is I, who now have won the night, as we head beneath the sea.