I paddled the canoe toward a mountain place
Watched the gentle swaying of a windsock
The breeze appeared to whisper "she's left her box"
The stars danced in circles above Alsace
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The Genie in his bottle rode the Caspian Sea
With folkloric symbols that no one would read
While humming a tune, not a word he said
As he sipped from a goblet of eau-de-vie
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Oh, Mr. Genie wandering devoid of light
You claim the souls of Acheron
Give apocalyptical readings from the bow of 101
As you hide in your sanctum, a vagrant of night
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I shall leave these waters without further adieu
Paint images that haunt your glassy sea
The bottomless echoes seem to be enticing me
Beyond pastel paths toward coral reefs blue
