All the small boats on the water going nowhere
Floating on top and gracefully tending to the same pole
Is it true that none of them will ever break free and sail?
All the small boats on the water going nowhere
Surely they must be loaded with more than simple matter
Weightless like a body that would vacate to its own light
Is it true that none of them, will ever break free and sail?
Will not ever hear a cry?
Will not ever hear a cry?
Filled with love not with desire, love not desire
Is it true that none of these contented happy faces
Floating on top and gracefully tending to the same pole
Is it true that none of these contented happy faces
Is it true that none of these contented happy faces
Left in obscurity
Break free from the stagnant things left in obscurity
Feel the night is made of rocks, the stagnant mass
All the small boats on the water aren't going anywhere
All the faces with their eyes closed giving a smile
Is it true that none of them will ever break free and sail?
Filled with love not with desire, love not desire
Will not ever hear a cry, won't hear a cry?
