Lost at Sea

Day 4,897, 05:43 • Published in USA USA • by Pfenix Quinn
Lost at Sea
No: 45 Day: 4898

Today's theme is e-singing a mashed-up pastiche of
sad socialistified sea shanties
while standing serenely on the deck of a sinking ship
savoring the bitter salty taste of treacherous trumpery.







As my lost drunken boat drifts northward on the currents,
as far as I can see,
there is no land.


I still have some time to kill.

You may not remember me.
I was a child of the SFP,
e-born in the days just before World War 3.

Been through a few wipes before.

How does it go?
It just goes and it goes.



Oh my.

The twilight is turning to darkness now.
I am, as usual, unsure of where to go.

The salt spray burns my skin.
Your eyes are turning cold as the ocean.

Is this our day today?






It goes and it goes.

Filled with filth and foul disease,
as time wears on, we'll prove again to be a debt-ridden drunken mess.
Then a kind priest or a sympathetic friend or two will rescue us.


Never once, I'd like to say before I'm gone
will your dear sweet socialist mother ever cease to remind you,
to never turn away from your thoughts of revenge.


Always and forever
your red mother will be watching over you.
Dear sweet contentious, broken, crazy nation.
Until you avenge this wicked deed.







Who could've heeded the wise old words?
Fighting for a system built to fail,
Now we're spooning water from our broken vessel.

The lords of war profit from decay
and trade gamer's luck for euro-jingle.
Thus our hard-earned clicks are e-betrayed.







Mama tried.

And she'll always be telling you,
good children,

"Yes. We're lost at sea
and the fear will never die
and if I had a boat I'd sail it to you
and hold you in my arms.

"Now I'm floating away to the north
and the sea is not my friend.

"Everyone conspires.

"Still, I choose to swim
as I slip beneath the tide."



Oh mama.



So I'm out on the waves.
And I'm hoping and praying
Please let this wind blow me home.


No, I'm not giving up.
I'm gonna raise my sail.
Lord knows what'll happen next.
Please let this wind blow me home.


The only change I see, the lost are found at sea.
The only difference is, I might just make it in.