He enlists an able deck-hand to wield the drill, A vortex in his cortex to release his will. As spiral enters he spins out of control. All magic circles under those eyes - Mental ventilation won't stifle their cries, His futility belt all crowded with spies. His one good eye now all a ghastly squint, Head held together with sorrow and spit. So much haste, too much speed, Spasm-tongued sermon decreed; I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. ... a malady on the mainline... A man of inaction, a greyer of shades. Prey to twisting frequencies with whom he once played. Wild of eye and long in tooth, Lies all that are left for our seeker of truth. A stoop-backed, sad sack, all thoughts side-tracked. Onrush of water through compromised hull. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. Crow's nest crowded with cackling crew, All staring faces peering straight through. Leering out of this unwitting host, A-raising the black sails and floating his ghost. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. I shuttered my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I shuttered my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith.