I

And on days we don’t remember

At times we can’t believe

lost you 'cross the water thrashing in our tumbled weeds

Timber! Call to savior

Bombs away! We sing

Frayed ropes send us adrift

Fighter pilot lenses

that’s right, the pilot fights

Slides upon the surface

Women’s faces

Bombs away.

I tried, I tried to tell you that the storm was riding high

and all we’d slopped together with wet mud and limestone tries

Was nothing to the power

the hum and din

of Mind

Then I tried, I tried to tell you that all's a tiny lie

but screaming at the altar bubbled down with pride 

shoes bloated, speaking tongues, naked feet astride

Never, Mind, not a thought

the wrong word and the hell it wrought

a joke the pilot tells, and laughs generations long