I Shall Become Ashes

Love is a boat that floats somewhere in Antarctica
I have journeyed far and not come near it

Winter seems warmer than summer
Icicle pricks are to be expected then

The right to the pursuit of happiness
Is a government conspiracy

Fruitless voyages cost tax payers a lot of money

A frozen tide does not come in
Nor does the ship that sails it

Alone I’d lay
When I’m to die
So I’ll be tossed upon the sea

In hopes of global warming