Backwater
We're sailing at the edges of time
Backwater
We're driftine at the water line


We're floating in the coastal waters
You and me and the porter's daughters
Ooh what to do, not a sausage to do
And the shorter of the porter's daughters dips her hands in the deadly waters
Ooh what to do in a tiny canoe

black water
there were 6 of us but now we are 5
they're all talking
to keep the conversation alive

there was a senator from ecaudor
who talked about a figidor[?]
that crashed on a hill in the south of peru
that was found by a conquistador
who took it to the emperor
who passed it on to a turkish peru[?]
his daughter was slated for becoming divine
he taught her how to spread the divine[?]

but if you study the logistics and heuristics of the mystics
you will find that their minds really move in a line
so it's much more realistic to abandon such ballistics
and resign to be trapped on a leaf in the vine