Crave...the sound of ocean roaring

The moisture during nightime warmth



Crave...though rather ill-disposedly

To be the director of your dreamplays

To cause awkward ecstatic awakenings

By his side, under the ghost of me



Into the waves still rising higher

The mermaid home, wish I'd be taken there



Like the amoeba spawns

Filling poor Rockford's cave

My brains swell sorely

When exposed to the vicinity



The conciousness sears me

Through the necessary

Inhaling sin, sketching the moves



Crave...the sound of ocean roaring

It was all tears mixed with sea

I'm purified by crystal showers and now

Salt tastes too mildy on my tongue



Crave...though rather ill-disposedly

To wake the sea-nymph that remains unseen

Causing awkward ecstatic awakenings

By his side, under the ghost of me