I ask for movement For opportunity Just sit and wait for What i think i need I ask for common vision To end the cast at sea I'll make a deal with patience I might find what i need I hear the faintest laughter In these small seashell walls I empty soiled pockets When the low groaning calls Fish can feel a presence But they can't sense the man Rusted hooks lay barren On broken seashell sand I have wanted you to find me Away i hide this, away i hide this I have waited for you to find me Away i hide this, why'd i hide this? Heaps of scaly crinkled messes Slimy fingers, dirty fingers Heaps of scaly wonder-fishes One part movement, grey sunshine Fish are just a simple member Even of color, grey sunshine Bobs can dip and points can sink in Even more with grey sunshine