A Grave Is A Grim Horse

Steve Von Till: “Looking For Dry Land”

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A lonely man on the mountain looks down at what he sees
All those who lie beneath him and the station of his peak
He cannot bear the weight of being so high
An island unto himself clouds obscure the sky

Looking for dry
Looking for dry land
Waiting for
His ship to come in

A worried man at the river stares across to the other side
To the risks he won’t afford and the failures he can’t hide
The levee can’t hold back the flood, the banks start to breach
He surrenders himself to the flow while the crossing lies just out of reach

Looking for dry
Looking for dry land
Waiting for
His ship to come in

A broken man in the ocean, drawn in by its sound
Clinging to the shallows afraid of going down
Sings a shanty of his life in a dialect now gone
His compass points away from himself the constellations move on

Looking for dry
Looking for dry land
Waiting for
His ship to come in

Però non ho mai detto che a canzoni, si fan rivoluzioni, si possa far poesia…

(Non l’hai mai detto, ma di sicuro l’hai pensato)