I am lost at sea;
The water moves my ship about.
My intentions were an island,
But I am pleased where I turned out.
When I need food and water,
I easily find my way.
And then quickly return to the sea,
Where I become lost once again.
I receive messages from land,
They are delivered by the gulls:
"Do you live on fish and water?"
"Do you find your time there dull?"
"When will you return?
"Is your ship really enough?"
"What about variety?"
"What about love?"
Storms are endured,
The ship is tossed and so am I,
No longer am I in control,
In the cabin I do lie,
I enjoy nature's cruelty,
Like a gambler enjoys his hand,
When my cards are dealt I lay them out,
I'm no match as just a man.
When I am lonely I answer the questions
That were delivered from the land:
"Don't you long for some excitement?"
"Don't you miss the feel of sand?"
The answer remains the same,
Though monotonous it may be,
So I bother not to reply:
"I prefer to be lost at sea."
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