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Making a living on the sea
I, scattered ashes left
In four far corners
I forget where home lies

This thing, this thing
Pulls me and my vessel forward
My hands are blocks, flat and clumsy
There seems to be no definition

I have the sun and moon for sense of time
No living thing but on the end of my line and in the air
I cannot remember being alive
All emotion bowed to despair then nothing

Take me home..
I know not where that is

Fight left now only stubbornness
Thirst has dried my tongue
I'm too proud and need too great
I do it for others

This thing, this thing
Is it worth my efforts
I beg of it
"Drag me home, drag me home!"

Take me home..
I know not anymore where that is

Glory awaits for I am poor
Though the desire to taste it is lesser
My body knows no other position except oppression..
Drag me home, glorious thing.

Take me home..
I know not where that is