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• Artiste: Fish
• Titre: Poet's Moon
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You sit there, biding your time. Out of your head and into your mind. Penning thoughts that are dreams in action. A glass raised to an absent muse. A boy stands in his father's shoes, And a drunk man smiles at a thistle, Under a Poet's moon. Under a Poet's moon, there's a life sign burning. A Poet's moon, like a vision shining, and The lovers lie in the long grass, stolen flowers make their bed. Under a Poet's moon, there are dreams in action. Prayers met and questions answered, As the world whirls in the darkness. I'm still staring at the skies under a Poet's moon. A night black as Hoodlo's eye. The sparks fly from a tinker's fire, As the stories burn among us under a Poet's moon. A seed falls onto stony ground, Without a hope and without a sound. From the weeds will grow the flowers, under a Poet's moon. Under a Poet's moon, there's a salmon settling In a guddler's hand that is patient waiting. Like a lover's touch, to charm the life, His fingers play the reeds. Under a Poet's moon, there's a whistle blowing, Out in no mans land Where a flare is falling in a deadly night. The dreamers stand like flowers in a storm, Flowers in the storm, we are flowers in the storm, Under a Poet's moon. You sit there biding your time, Out of your head and into your mind. Penning thoughts that are dreams in action. A cross made in a polling booth. Another flies in a field of blue, And a drunk man smiles at a thistle, Under a Poet's moon. Under a Poet's moon, there are angels crying, dead men born, And devils laughing, and the dance goes on regardless till You're carried from the floor. Under a Poet's moon, there are dreams in action. Prayers met and questions answered, as the world whirls in the darkness. I'm still staring at the skies, staring at the skies; we're still staring at the skies Under a Poet's moon.