Lane Lines
Drift
The black line on the pool floor, three strokes and a breath, a slice of sky on every inhale. Nothing to decide but the next arm over. For the morning that runs itself.
Lyrics
Black line on the bottom and I follow it down
Three strokes and a breath, three strokes and a breath
A whistle at the far end
Gone when my ears go under again
Nothing to decide this morning
The black line knows the way
Arm over arm till the counting goes quiet
And the water holds the weight
Lost the count somewhere round twelve
Doesn't matter, the T on the floor tells me when to turn
Breathe to the left, a slice of blue sky
Breathe to the right, the clock and the empty stands
Nothing to decide this morning
The black line knows the way
Arm over arm till the counting goes quiet
And the water holds the weight
Three strokes and a breath
Three strokes and a breath