Ain't never no land in sight

There's never sleep anymore. 

Only the sirens, yelling and the tap dancing cow above.

I wonder if my mother would still see it as "angels bowling". Probably not. 

And my constant wondering, about what he was constantly wondering. Now I'll really never know.

Marooned on a dingy in the middle of the ocean, is where I'd rather be. 

You know, one of those shitty little rotted canoes, with a piss yellow sail? 

And that water. As blue as any individual imagination could ever see its favorite tone of blue.

Lying on my back letting the sun cook my brain; exactly like when we were kids and we'd throw an egg on the neighbors paved driveway in the middle of the summer, just to test if it actually would cook. 

I'd like my brain to sizzle. And smell exactly like scrambled eggs. 

It's all I want to see. 

I would gladly throw away these dejected buildings to make my desperate escape to the middle of the sea.