I don't work now. I spend my time pacing by the edge of the water, straining, hoping that I don't mistake the sign in some reflection. Faint catcalls and idling motors reach down to me, and I wonder if I'm really gonna make it out.
Because every hour I feel I'm closer to knowing the location of the handle.
For centuries, decaying in the dark, now floating somewhere in the harbor.
Glowing in the reeds, stretching down past where visibility fades…where a mechanism of elusive origin awaits...
This'll be the night that I see those spotlights shining,
This'll be the night that the handle pulls me down
Down, to where I was shown I would be enclosed
by two halves of a conical vessel, provided to protect me
on my journey across the fabric of space
the things that I'll see on my passage to safety
This'll be the night that I see those spotlights shining
This'll be the night that I swim out into the harbor
This'll be the night that I grab ahold of the handle
This'll be the night that it'll pull me way way down
this'll be the night ill be holding on for dear love
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