2013.

On a boat, down the throat

Of the Pacific Ocean.

Salty, ten eyes wander.

Before we die,

Let’s get high

And fly on the water.

Your feet will glide,

Your eyes are wide.

Clouds in the sky,

A boat approaches.

Fishing poles, and

Brain holes, nothing

Makes sense anymore.

Paint the sky, so my eyes

Can see, how nice

The Fall Trees may be.