We're shadows in the rain,
sailing through the storms of life,
tacking against the wind,
hauling the sheets as timbers groan and gnash,
our vessel sways
upon the ocean's gray rolling hills.
Heave the lines, heave ho!
When the tempest
of foggy cataracts, thumping transmission,
and debt distress finally subsides,
a lemon drop ray of sunshine peeks through,
and I shift the tiller of our little yawl
to sail a reach before a following sea
with forty feet of waterline making way nicely
on a downhill run to forever.
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