And running away from Father
Or the cursed ghost house,
Dissolve in a sea, unchartered
And joy.
But fathers do love, when
And if they can.
And curses wash away
Ghosts may abandon man
And maps can work
If they lead to you
And joy does drop by
Even if by the blue moon.
And if truth be told
We all must wait
Bide our time
Walk the line
For the best is generally
Painstakingly late
But is always yet, to come.
