I ask for movement
For opportunity
Just sit and wait for
What i think i need

I ask for common vision
To end the cast at sea
I'll make a deal with patience
I might find what i need
I hear the faintest laughter
In these small seashell walls
I empty soiled pockets
When the low groaning calls
Fish can feel a presence
But they can't sense the man
Rusted hooks lay barren
On broken seashell sand

I have wanted you to find me
Away i hide this, away i hide this
I have waited for you to find me
Away i hide this, why'd i hide this?

Heaps of scaly crinkled messes
Slimy fingers, dirty fingers
Heaps of scaly wonder-fishes
One part movement, grey sunshine
Fish are just a simple member
Even of color, grey sunshine
Bobs can dip and points can sink in
Even more with grey sunshine