She folded me up like origami, turning something used into something beautiful And smoothing out the creases of my geometric heart she kissed goodbye the girl she called art.
Adrift! A little boat adrift! And night is coming down! Will no one guide a little boat Unto the nearest town?
So Sailors say—on yesterday— Just as the dusk was brown One little boat gave up its strife And gurgled down and down.
So angels say—on yesterday— Just as the dawn was red One little boat—o’erspent with gales— Retrimmed its masts—redecked its sails— And shot—exultant on!