Crave...the sound of ocean roaring  The moisture during nightime warmth     Crave...though rather ill-disposedly  To be the director of your dreamplays  To cause awkward ecstatic awakenings  By his side, under the ghost of me     Into the waves still rising higher  The mermaid home, wish I'd be taken there     Like the amoeba spawns  Filling poor Rockford's cave  My brains swell sorely  When exposed to the vicinity     The conciousness sears me  Through the necessary  Inhaling sin, sketching the moves     Crave...the sound of ocean roaring  It was all tears mixed with sea  I'm purified by crystal showers and now  Salt tastes too mildy on my tongue     Crave...though rather ill-disposedly  To wake the sea-nymph that remains unseen  Causing awkward ecstatic awakenings  By his side, under the ghost of me