by the shores
by cor

here lies the dead son
where the admiral hit his head
on the flaming sword of justice
and we all cried tears of fire
for that godforsaken child

it wasnt without merit
that we called him pernicious
it was his real title
carved out of the wood by the
edges of the lamplight

i was a youngish boy
of about fifteen or twenty
and i didnt know the difference
between an admiral and a saint
at the time of his death

there were boats at the harbor
sun was beating down on me
and buckets of shit poured
from the side into the
salty swimming waters

i urged him to jump
feet first like a cannonball
diving into the earth
and he plunged deep to the depths
and came up choking and haha

but the fever struck fast
and i felt his hands wet
like the day we swam
and he cried and cried
and died

here lies the dead son
where the grass dont grow
on the hill beyond the city
and we all called him pernicious
but i call him brother