Roaring riptides,
Moist clams,
Ringing truths,
Beckoning hills,
Busiful bodies,
Sweltering heats,
And all I want,
Is you.
Roaring riptides,
Moist clams,
Ringing truths,
Beckoning hills,
Busiful bodies,
Sweltering heats,
And all I want,
Is you.
As it goes,
And as it went
So it goes,
And so it went.
All the maybe-wondrous possibilities,
All the could-have-beens,
All the positively-worth-exploring,
Rest, and rest some more.
And right below that tar pit of deep-seated, conjured-up notions
Lay that elusive thing called blue skies,
Called happiness.