Otros Ejercicios
Messes Of Men 
Hard
de MewithoutYou
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I do not exist, but faithfully insist
in our separate ships
and each tiny caravelle
Tiring and trying there's unnecessary dying
the crab in its proper sheds its shell
Such distance from our friends
like a scratch a lens,
made everything look wrong from anywhere we stood
and our paper away we'd left the bay,
so half-blind we wrote these on sheets of salty wood
Caught me making at the boatman's wives,
and heard me louder at the jokes told by daughters
I'd set my course for land,
but you well understand
it takes a steady hand to navigate adulterous waters
The propeller's spinning blades held acquaintance with the waves
as there's mistakes I've made no rowing could outrun
The cloth blowing on the mast like to say I've got no past
but I'm the librarian and secretary's son
with tarnish on my brass and mildew on my glass,
I'd never someone so crass as to someone me
but a few leagues off the shore, I bit a lure
and I assure you, it was not what I expected it to be!
I still taste its kiss, dull hook in my lip
is a as useless as a rod without a reel
To an anchor ever-dropped, seasick yet still docked
spotted napping with his first mate at the wheel,
along, with no need to be strong
We keep our confessions long and when we pray we keep it short
I drank a thimble of fire and I'm not ever coming back
Oh, my God!
I do not exist we faithfully insist
watching the ship of everything we knew
If you come near I'll up high a mirror
Lord, I could never show you as beautiful as You
in our separate ships
and each tiny caravelle
Tiring and trying there's unnecessary dying
the crab in its proper sheds its shell
Such distance from our friends
like a scratch a lens,
made everything look wrong from anywhere we stood
and our paper away we'd left the bay,
so half-blind we wrote these on sheets of salty wood
Caught me making at the boatman's wives,
and heard me louder at the jokes told by daughters
I'd set my course for land,
but you well understand
it takes a steady hand to navigate adulterous waters
The propeller's spinning blades held acquaintance with the waves
as there's mistakes I've made no rowing could outrun
The cloth blowing on the mast like to say I've got no past
but I'm the librarian and secretary's son
with tarnish on my brass and mildew on my glass,
I'd never someone so crass as to someone me
but a few leagues off the shore, I bit a lure
and I assure you, it was not what I expected it to be!
I still taste its kiss, dull hook in my lip
is a as useless as a rod without a reel
To an anchor ever-dropped, seasick yet still docked
spotted napping with his first mate at the wheel,
along, with no need to be strong
We keep our confessions long and when we pray we keep it short
I drank a thimble of fire and I'm not ever coming back
Oh, my God!
I do not exist we faithfully insist
watching the ship of everything we knew
If you come near I'll up high a mirror
Lord, I could never show you as beautiful as You
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