Well it happens this way or another
The slow rush of the uncoiling thing
Some mad knife that chipped away
Long enough at the great reservoir
The starting jet like a river snake
Biting at the brick till its thicker
Holy blue hell then breaks loose
And everything is underwater
The cool joy of being down deep
Seeing the sun’s beady eye looking
For you but it does not find you
There is not another body around
Other than the undulating stream
That you are a part of and apart from
That’s the ecstasy Mr Lock, the one
And it happens this way or another
But I tell you, it is always just this one
