Somewhere along, there drifts a man
Who I met before he met his end.

When you dream up a dream
Where the ocean is clean and pure
And quenches your thirst,
Does it hurt you to wake,
Unable to take a drink,
Or does it feel okay?

And I must admit, I'm not great with words
But it seems, at least, that he deserves some.

When you look off and see
Where the starry sky cedes itself
To the surface of the sea,
Does your wake deform,
Disfigure, and warp the echo
As it does for me?

Let's drink, drink to what's seen--
Drink to our memories, as blurred as they may be.
Let's drink, though it may be
A terrible thing to die of at sea.