Matthew Good
Cold Water
Insane I wake up, the oars I take up and row to right
a dawnless widow, a Portsmouth ghost of East End slight
For you I hold this to build from nothing an Ancient Light
and so in motions of all distortions I pull for my life
This cold water is weighing us down
oh how I wish I was with you and nowhere else
Late this morning I came by Hampstead in a Devon scow
that found me drifting just off of Rame Head near Plymouth Sound
In the room that we let I found your hairbrush broke on the ground
and so in motion, like stone in potion, I just laid down
From Letras Mania