In the Spring I lost my mother,
so I went out to find another.
I found in the dirty part of town
a girl who could waste some time.
In the Winter I lost another,
so I went out to find my source.
Hoping I could find some permanence,
fearing I would find discord.
Found myself on the dirty river,
drifting along, trolling my hand,
trying to find my long lost brothers.
Far from the fishes.
Far from the fishes.
I caught in the dirty water,
a glassy-eyed elder sole.
I stared into his dim mouth,
into my salty past.
He said: "Don't look back,
mother sea will swallow you whole.
March on! into the sun."
Far from the fishes.
Far from the fishes.