From Jacob Stevens to his darling bla bla

[thyis1]

Westward look my son.

Where the wave of exploration broke,
high along the bluffs of the coast,
out to the endless horizon.
Wine cooled breezed and guitar nights.

The breakers come in,
changing the continent's precious line.
Wind and time have shaped this coast,
asphalt superhighways reach mercilessly,
gobbling up, north to south.

White caps and dolphins,
the sea brings abundant life,
ever growing. Salt breezed days turn to
fog-city nights. The sun sets, green flashes,
stars harmonize, voyaging farther west.

So look westward my child,
and see the high water mark.
Where exploration ended and dreams began.