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The Microphones



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The Microphones

The Water Is Wide

The water is wide, the ship is slow
Of all the watery bodies, I've only known my own
It's feet are wet, so the rest is cold
The night fires burn low on my shaded glow
On a frozen sea, on a mountain road,
I picture you, love, in a graceful glow
You are distant, love, but there I go
I want to slide you up under my t-shirt,
I want to wrap your army of arms around me like feelers,
I want to feel your softness on my clammy stomach
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And, sweaty, have your stray hairs on my tongue
And young, warm up, rise like warm buns
And young, rise up, rise like suns
And invisible, I could take you into my lungs
And invisible, I could take you in through my songs
You're a warming wind from a distant sun
I'm an iceberg and I'll melt,
And out I'll run