rant v: captain cook set your compass by this star
blank and empty/that's how I feel staring at white space/wondering if it's all just white noise/like static in the jesus and mary chain/i've just come off a high/that had me feeling low/i feel like i've crashed into the trees/imagine i'm a tightrope walker/high above the sea/all the twisting and turning is up in the air/then I become part of the breeze/but you see i only know how to swim and float/diving was a lesson never learned/so when i hit those whitecap crests i go in all angles and elbows/initially the crash stings all over like a hundred-thousand razor blades/but then the nerves give out and there's nothing left to feel at all/you sink into the ocean floor/and maybe in a million years you'll become oil or some valuable resource/but right now you're just a broken shattered corpse on the bottom of the sea/so many things i thought i had to say/and maybe that's the problem/like a pressurized volcano/maybe my lava will become tropical islands with coconuts and sand/right now they're just molten rock steaming/the eruption is over/the smoke has cleared/and the southern cross hangs low in the belly of the sky/it's peaceful in a way/tomorrow the sun might rise on the atoll/but for now all i know/is the tightening of my own skin.