Finding the needle
Sit by my side in the small garden with
Tall trees that cast shadows and cools the summer
Just sit there at my side and let me narrate
My story, how a poor boy from a Nordic country
Ended up in the interior that has no sea.
From seaman to poet, and yes how they laughed when
I drunk recited my poems to an audience of fools
Who didn`t see how exploited they were
From ship to ship I was always fired it was the drink
You see, or that was what they said.
So many harbours and the sat in bars by the docks
While I went up town to see reality and not the whores
And cheap drink drowning in sentimental music
Somehow I was always disappointed I didn`t belong
And was a rudderless ship drifting in the ocean of life?
You do not understand but hear the pain I suffered
Not belonging to anyone. Freedom is challenging, and
honestly doesn`t give you friends, so just hold my hand
and let me rattle on till itís time for tea