Because the things I have to do are sea monsters lurking,
my bed is lost at sea.
On the boat with me is the weight of a grieving mother and
deep in the water a bell sings the story of her lost child.

The soft waves of the music make it hard to move.

If I lay down flat and close tight my eyes,
I can feel the deep blue sky not falling.

If I stay very very still,
I can reach steady towards grief,
and hold its hand.