Take this lonely river
where we were floating feathers.

On me, your glowing eyes,
performing from the shore.
Those hazy, sapphire thunderstorms

I saw you hide the secrets there,
so we could float
carefree.

Cleanse the fear with morning dew,
and let thoughts drift on down the blue.

Is the water clear as minds at peace?
Would it help to fill my lungs with air?

Praying with the ebb and flow,
would I stay afloat?

Because if I should choose to swim the other way,
or to grab hold, the shifty shore,
my body, gravely unprepared
may swallow in despair,
and all it takes is one stone in my pocket.

Just one stone in my pocket, dear.