Jezebel's Boat

Memories forgotten like wisps of a bad dream,

I look again at my shifting reality,

Ever lost, ever searching for meaning,

for a modicum of control.

Some call me the fisherman's wife,

I am actually the huntress of good fortune,

Ever lost, ever searching for meaning,

for a modicum of control.

I was there when God burnt down the fifth mountain,

I was there when the raven fed Elijah,

And still I believe truth can be found,

In the deepest bowels of Hell.

So I live here -- ever searching for meaning,

One lost soul fishing in Lethe.