I would like to float on a tiny boat
As lonely as can be.
Between silvery stars, and silvery fish,
In the middle of a dark, cool sea.

I would like to lie down in a freshwater stream,
A reed-tangled, shadowy brook.
Like Ophelia in her watery tomb;
Where no one would think to look.

I would like to be found on some shingle beach,
Blasted dry by the desolate air.
My siren song has died in my throat,
And I've samphire in my hair.