No Moorage
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No home do I remember
To mark a place embarked.
I know no purpose for my passage,
Nor where my course is bound;
Only a rolling swell of moments
On a sea of endless time;
The lash of sudden gales,
A seldom sun-filled sky
And ever turning tides...
The lash of sudden gales,
A seldom sun-filled sky
And ever turning tides...
With no moorage to be found
On the boundless boundless brine.
On the boundless boundless brine.