/Was originally a song but my recording microphone broke.../

And your lover said I am the storm that floods your gallery, honey...

Is that true?

And all of your what-if's flood the Mountain City, honey...

is that true?

You said sleeping feels an awful lot like sinking-

But I am your battleship and when you come on sight

You bring forth sirens singing:

"Strong men in fragile relationships:

Sinking ships, sinking lips- tied.

From never wanting to say hello

Now I never ever want to say goodbye."

My baby is caught in the ebb and flow...

Of high denial

and low self-control.

Every day your "I love you's" sounds less and less convincing, a few tables away from me but you know that I'm still listening.

As your lover left through a forced smile-

My conscience turned too silent for a while...

That's why when you get bitter-

You let me call you: Honey.

And the world seems better...

Thy Ark opened somewhere... sunny.