the bridge swerves to an empty road,
across the shallow river.
the lighthouse lost the ship,
i can hear the sailor stranded in the waters,
and the passengers' in the holy trip.
the pebbles sunk under the waters stare back at the man, an invite to sink,
alas, it takes a courage that he never had, pushing him to the brink,
but he dared to salute and shoot his bullets,
instead of jumping in.
the pebbles stare back at the passengers,
pleading them to touch
the ground where the water rolls down,
lolling around death's mouth.
they mirror their leader,
dancing around the ship,
criticise the man, swords at their hip,
curse the fortune tellers!
crying babies swinging whips.
the bridge swerves once more,
blinking lights uptown,
the river banks are too far now,
i can't hear the winds sing.
