The Holding Hand

There is no shape, there is no form
But a smoky rolling mass
So it billows like the sea
Surges overcome to pass

Some power exceeds muscle
Even the weightless can outweigh
Put one over in the hustle
Teacher becomes protégé

And we row, on we go, through these murky water bodies
Little known, little shown, just a distant call of sound

See the couplets in the Sun
In an alabaster hue
Slouched across these spangled acres
Rich outlandish revenue

See it come and see it go
As you find it then it's lost
Far beyond the holding hand
In a pipe dream double-crossed

And we row, on we go, through these murky water bodies
Little known, little shown, just a distant call of sound