I am alone in my unhappiness.
In the depths of some ocean cave I will bury my legs in sand and wait for high tide.
When they look at my carcass washed up on the shore they will wonder if I were born to the sea, and you will choose to believe it.

Still in the dark of the night you will hear the clinking of sailboat's masts miles away
and you will clutch at your guts in fervent prayer
and you will sweat your strain until it equates all my wretched tears
and in the depths of some ocean cave I will sit,
smiling.